


Beasts and Beauties

by bookvarietynerd



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beauty and the Beast, Blood, M/M, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 57,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10155827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookvarietynerd/pseuds/bookvarietynerd
Summary: Jonas Wagner is a young man living in a small town in 17th century France, just trying to read books, avoid bullies, and catch the attention of the most beautiful girl in town. When a journey into the forest goes astray, he finds himself in an enchanted castle with some...rather odd inhabitants.It's the adventure he's always dreamed of having, full of magic and mystery--and maybe too much danger for his taste. Not to mention the Beast who doesn't want to let him leave...A twist on the classic "Beauty and the Beast" fairy tale.





	1. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been so long since I've done this! But this comic and its fandom are just too amazing not to participate in. Characters belong to Mars (smokeplanet), and the story is mainly inspired by the general Beauty and the Beast fairytale with some specific inspiration from the Disney version. Rating may change.

"Once upon a time, in a far away land, a young prince lived in a shining castle."

  
"Aw, Jonas," whined one of his siblings, who were crowded around his feet and staring up at him with expectant eyes. "I want a story about a princess."

  
Another one piped up, "Yeah, and in a land not so far away." The other kids nodded in agreement.

  
It was their morning ritual: after the little kids finished their chores, Jonas took a break from his own to tell them a quick story, so long as Dean didn't catch him at it.

  
Jonas leaned over them and said in his most ominous voice, "How about the tale about the witch who lives in the forest down the lane and eats little children who don't do their chores?"

  
The four children at his feet squealed. "No," said the youngest one, though she was smiling, "a princess who falls in love with a prince and lives happily ever after in a beautiful castle."

  
"And a stable full of horses."

  
"And brave knights..."

  
'Who fight off a fire-breathing dragon!"

  
Jonas lifted an eyebrow, barely stifling a grin. "I think next time you all should tell the story and let me listen for a change."  
The kids tittered excitedly until all that enthusiasm suddenly snuffed out. Jonas didn't need to turn around to know why they scattered, the oldest girl giving Jonas an apologetic looks as she shuffled the others into the house.

  
Dean had a way of looming over them all even from across the yard that made Jonas wish he was still young enough to scurry off, too. Dean didn't comment on Jonas' presence under a shady tree instead of out in the fields. He didn't need to. Instead he wiped the dirt from his hands slowly, dirt that was so ingrained into the creases of his hands that it never disappeared. That dirt was a constant reminder to Jonas of just how much of a disappointment he was.

  
"If you're not doing anything you can go to town for Sue," was all he said.

  
Jonas tried his best not to sound nervous. "Should I take the cart?"

  
"You can walk. Don't take all day." Another unspoken warning: stay out of the bookshop. Jonas nodded mutely and scrambled to his feet.

  
The farm provided most of the things they needed: eggs, vegetables, even a few fruit trees that grew in a tangled mess where the fields of crops butted up against the forest. Once a week someone went to town for flour, lard, and anything else they couldn't make themselves. Usually Sue went, sometimes taking one or two of the children with her to help carry their purchases.

  
Then there were days like today when Dean sent Jonas.

  
He was barely out of sight of the house when he heard his name.

  
"Jojo! Wait."

  
He paused to let Sydney catch up. Jonas could see Dean stop on his way back to the fields to glance at them. Jonas could practically feel the disappointment from where he stood. No matter the fact that Sydney worked as hard on the farm as anyone, Dean would never think it worth a girl wearing pants.

  
"How the hell does he expect me to get anything done in a dress?" she'd muttered to herself at night as she repurposed an old pair of pants she'd gotten from who-knows-where to fit her. Jonas would never forget the look on Dean's face when he saw Sydney, already hard at work, in a pair of ill-fitting pants. He would never approve, that much was clear, but so long as she kept working hard and never wore them off the farm, Dean allowed Sydney her pants.

  
Sydney threw her arm over Jonas' shoulders. She smelled like dirt, sweat, and sunshine. "Give me a minute and I'll go wash up and come with you."

  
Jonas was shaking his head before she finished despite wishing more than anything that his sister could come with him. "One of us has to help Dean with the pumpkins," he said. "Besides, if you go into town looking like that..." He pointed to the pants.

  
Sydney rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know." The playfulness left her voice. "Seriously, Jonas. Just be careful, okay? If you run into Neil or any of his friends..."

  
"Run?"

  
"I was going to say hide. But whatever seems most appropriate at the time." She ruffled his hair and started back towards the farm.

  
The walk into town was down a long, wagon-rutted dirt road that passed through nothing but fields and patches of trees. It was a warm day, probably the last one they would have before winter set in. Jonas could feel the cold creeping into the air. If he had been with Sydney they could have enjoyed the walk and the rare moments of quiet away from chores, children, and Dean.

  
The looming threat of what might wait for him when stepped into town soured his mood. Maybe the fact that he always had his guard up looking for Neil made Jonas seem unapproachable. Maybe it was his "unnatural obsession" with books. Maybe it really was just him. No matter the reason, the people in town had a tendency to treat him... Well. Most people weren't mean. They just acted like he was something peculiar they'd rather not deal with, thank you very much.

  
He remembered coming to market with Sue ever since he was a child. He remembered curious looks that turned to something more appraising the older he got. Still, because people thought highly of Dean and Sue, the mothers in town urged their boys to allow Jonas into their ranks.

  
And that was where the trouble began.

  
It took no more than one afternoon with Neil Beckham--the boy all the girls wanted to marry, all the boys wanted to befriend, and all the parents wanted their sons to be--to know that Jonas wanted nothing to do with any of it.

  
He didn't realize then, as a child, what this would mean for him: the target Neil seemed to have drawn on Jonas' back as punishment for the apparent rebellion, and the looks he got when the townspeople realized something must be wrong with a boy if he preferred to sneak away and read a book to hunting and fighting. As though his difference was a personal assault against their way of life.

  
Like Mrs. Chase, Braxton's mother and the miller's wife, who now eyed him with something like suspicion as she dumped a sack of flour into his waiting arms, sending a small powdery cloud into his face. He wished more than anything Dean had let him bring the cart.

  
It took a while to pick up their usual purchases. His arms were loaded down, already shaking from the strain, by the time he reached his last stop.

  
The Mendoza family sold textiles. They made their name selling imported fabrics to the few rich families in the area, and as a side business they sold honey. The small jar of honey Dean allowed them to purchase each week was their only real treat, one that Jonas suspected Dean only allowed because it saved him from admitting that he couldn't stand the thought of keeping bees himself.

  
More importantly the weekly honey purchase gave Jonas a chance to see Carmen.

  
He tried not to let her see his arms shake as he set the other items he'd already purchased down, and hoped she thought the redness in his face came from exertion. He pretended to inspected the golden jars in front of him as he worked up the courage to stutter, "G-good morning, Carmen."

  
She hardly glanced up at him, but it was enough to set his pulse stuttering. "Oh, good morning, Jonah." Her bored smile was so radiant that it didn't even bother him that she'd called him by the wrong name.

  
"Hello," he said.

  
She blinked up at him prettily. He got the impression he had just interrupted a particularly deep thought. Still, her voice was kind when she asked, "Did you need something?"

  
If he wasn't blushing before he certainly was now. "Oh, um. Yes. Honey?"

  
Carmen giggled. Jonas leaned on the table to keep from toppling over from shear elation. "Yes, that does make sense." She handed him a jar. As he handed her the money, he noticed that the smile had disappeared from her face.

  
"Is...something wrong?"

  
She sighed, staring off into the distance. "I wouldn't want to bother you, but..." Another sigh. "It's just that winter is coming, and I hate it. It's so gloomy around here." She wrinkled her nose. "When we lived in the city by the sea, winters were never so cold, and we grew flowers in glass houses. Roses were my favorites." She smiled sadly up at him. "The honey used to taste like it, and Mama and I would make rosewater. I would give anything to have roses again. But even if it wasn't so cold, the ground here is so bad that they just won't grow."

  
Jonas didn't know what to say to that--maybe, "I'd build you a thousand glass houses and fill them with roses," but luckily was spared the trouble of answering by a hard shove to his shoulder. Jonas stumbled forward, barely able to catch himself on the edge of the table before tumbling to the ground. The jolt shook the jars and sent one rolling off the table. He heard a shatter.

  
Carmen gasped and jumped back from the unsettled table. Jonas turned, already aware of what he would find when he did.  
"Now look at what you've done," drawled Neil. Jonas could see Braxton and Augustus lingering behind him, watching and waiting to jump in at Neil's orders as though the fight weren't unfair enough as it was. When Neil sneered at him it reminded Jonas of a horse with its teeth bared. His teeth always had a tendency to show. Jonas thought Neil never shut his mouth, even to breath. "It's going to take your family a whole month to pay for that."

  
So much for running or hiding. Sydney would kill him, if Neil left anything behind when he was through. "I was just leaving," he muttered, keeping his eyes down, hoping if he looked submissive enough Neil would get bored and let him pass.  
He should have known from experience that wasn't going to happen.

  
Neil leaned in close so that Jonas had no choice but to look up at him. "You should have thought of that before you decided you were good enough to talk to the most beautiful girl in town," he snarled. Jonas noted the glance Neil shot in Carmen's direction, no doubt checking to make sure she was watching.

  
A cold sweat pooled in the small of Jonas' back. Across the aisle he saw a couple of the other vendors look over at them curiously before going back to their own businesses. No help would come from them. "I was just..." He paused, knowing nothing he said would save him from whatever punishment Neil saw fit to dole out today.

  
Neil drew back his arm, fist clenched. Jonas flinched. The jar of honey, forgotten but still gripped in his hand, slipped and shattered at his feet. The hit never landed. Instead Neil threw back his head and laughed. He patted Jonas' cheek, hard enough that it became a slap that brought tears to his eyes. "I'll leave you be now," Neil laughed as though he'd done something truly generous. "I'd hate for you to break any more jars and cause your family to starve this winter." He didn't sound like he'd be sorry in the least.

  
Jonas didn't watch him saunter off. He stared at the broken glass and ruined honey in the dirt at his feet until a petite cough drew his attention back to Carmen. "Will you be wanting another jar? In addition to those two?" She pointed to the two casualties.

  
Jonas managed to smile. He always managed to smile for Carmen. He felt her watching him as he dug through his pockets for money. He'd already spent Dean's money and now had to use his own, saved over the long months and now wasted on broken jars and spilt honey.

  
Without his little stash there wasn't really a point in going into the bookshop. He went anyway.

  
"Good morning, Jonas," said Mr. Newman called from the back of the tiny shop. "Can I help you with anything today?"  
Jonas heaved his packages onto the ground, mindful to be extra careful with the honey. He sighed. Just being in the presence of books--the smell, the rare moment of quiet--calmed him. The pit of misery in his stomach unraveled, if only slightly. Even so he was hit with the unmistakable urge to sink to the floor and go to sleep. "Not really," he said, trying to hide the pang of disappointment he felt.

  
Mr. Newman came around a stack of books. "What's wrong, my boy?"

  
Jonas ran a finger down the spine of a nearby book. "Just...Neil." He didn't need to explain further. Mr. Newman was a short, squat man himself, and one who sold books in a town in which many of its residents couldn't or didn't read. He knew what it was to be an outsider.

  
The thought wasn't exactly comforting.

  
Mr. Newman nodded sympathetically. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Jonas thought he meant it just as sure as they both knew there wasn't anything either of them could do. About Neil. About the townspeople. About their own otherness.

  
"Thanks," Jonas said anyway. He did feel a little better. He paused for a long time. A thought occurred to him and he brightened. "Actually, Mr. Newman, do you have any books on roses?"

  
Mr. Newman's mustache twitched. "Roses? I don't think so. I have several horticultural manuals but nothing about roses specifically. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a rose in these parts. I'd guess they just don't do so well in this soil. Why the sudden interest?"

  
Jonas felt a hot flush creep over his face. "Oh. Well, I--uh..." He swallowed down a nervous laugh. "I just thought it might be interesting. And maybe I could grow some for...Sue."

  
"Oh, how nice," Mr. Newman said distractedly. His attention had already shifted to a shelf of books. He climbed a ladder, running his fingers over the spines as he searched for something. "Ah!" He pulled a book and descended the ladder, his knees creaking and popping with each step. He handed the book to Jonas. "I don't know about roses but there's a lot in there about growing flowers."

  
Jonas tried to hand the book back. "Sorry, Mr. Newman, I don't have any money." He felt the familiar creep of shame up his neck.

  
After a moment of thought Mr. Newman shook his head. "Don't worry about it. People around here don't grow anything unless they can eat it, so I don't expect I'll be selling that anytime soon. We can just say you're borrowing it." He chuckled.  
Jonas flipped through the pages. It was filled with sketches of flowers, some familiar and some so unusual he had to think the artist had embellished a bit. "Thank you. I'll keep it safe."

  
It was dark by the time he got home and the cows were restless. Dean would be angry, even if he was the one who told Jonas to go. He called over one of the little girls still playing outside. "Go take this inside to Sue." He handed her the flour and waited until his adoptive sister stopped tottering under its weight and ran inside before heading into the barn. He set the rest of the items safely out of the way and started in on his chores.

  
The horses nickered at him and the cows huffed impatiently, hungry and sore from not being milked in too long. "I know, I know. Sorry I'm late. I had a run-in with Neil." He shuddered at the very thought. "But I got to see Carmen, so that was good, at least."

  
Even as used to these chores as he was, milking the cows and feeding everything took time. The little kids were old enough now to take care of the chickens and the goat but were too little to handle the bigger animals. Not that he minded. It gave him a difficult, time-consuming job that contributed to the farm. Dean made no effort to hide that he would much prefer it it Jonas worked with him in the fields and Sydney with the animals. Still, as long as everything got done one way or another and to his standards, Dean let it go.

  
Besides, Jonas like the smell of hay and the warmth of the cow's side. Even Martha, who kicked at him at least twice a day. The animals were a quiet company. They didn't care if he muttered to himself or sat in a corner and read, so long as he fed them first.

  
After the milking was finished, he rushed to distribute hay to the cows and then the horses, Button and Bud. Button dug into her food eagerly but Bud kept his head up until Jonas scratched his chin. Lots of people said Bud was the ugliest damn horse they'd ever seen. Jonas couldn't really argue the point except to say that he wasn't entirely sure Bud was a horse, maybe a mule or even a stunted donkey. Rumor had it that he came from a magnificent bloodline of warhorses in a village near the coast and that when the stable master--seeing that the foal was doomed to be ugly and probably stupid--sold him as a plow horse. Unfortunately, Bud had a tendency to be lazy. So he passed from owner to owner, the price plummeting each time, until eventually he came to Dean for cheaper than it cost for a sack of flour.

  
What Jonas did know was that Bud was the most compassionate...whatever-he-was...around. He may not be the strongest or smartest and certainly not the prettiest horse, but he always seemed to know when Jonas was upset. He'd bump his huge head against Jonas' shoulder in what was a "there, there" gesture if he ever saw one.

  
"Good boy," Jonas murmured as the animal finally dipped his fuzzy grey head into his hay.

  
Dean said more often than Jonas could count how alike he was to Bud. "Both of you eat more than you earn," he would grumble, casting dark looks at Jonas and the unsuspecting horse. Jonas wished he could be as oblivious.

  
Dinner was already over by the time he stepped in the house. In his first real stroke of luck of the day, the only people in the kitchen were Sue and Sydney, cleaning up after the avalanche of feeding a family as big as theirs. Quiet chatter drifted down from the loft the children shared, all piled together on shoddy wooden platform furnished with nothing but mattresses on the floor.

  
Sydney met his eyes and glanced towards the door to the only bedroom in the house, indicating that Dean had already gone to bed. Jonas felt a bit of the tension leave his body. His shoulders ached from hauling the heavy packages such a long way.  
"Hey, sweetheart," Sue said softly when she noticed him. He tried not to wonder if the softness was for him or to not disturb Dean. He felt ungrateful for even thinking it. "I left you a plate of dinner on the table. Thanks for going shopping for me."  
He set everything carefully on the table before sitting down. "No problem. Thanks for dinner." He dug in.

  
"You didn't have any problems, did you, Jojo?" Sydney leveled him with a pointed look.

  
He refused to look at her when he said, "Of course not." He heard her sigh. They wouldn't talk about it in front of Sue. Sue liked to believe everything was okay. The kitchen was quiet for a long time until Jonas remembered he had something he wanted to ask her. "Sue?"

  
"Yes, dear?"

  
"Do you know anything about growing roses?"

  
Sue looked up at him over the plates she was putting away, clearly surprised. "Not more than anyone else, I'm afraid. Why do you ask?"

  
He shrugged. "No real reason. Just curious." He tried not to let his disappointment show.

  
The look she gave him made it clear that she was afraid he'd say that. "Well, I know they don't grow around here much. I can't say that I've ever even seen a rose, to tell you the truth."

  
Something in Jonas sank lower. "Oh."

  
If his adoptive mother noticed, she made no comment. Sue dusted off her hands. "I'm off to bed. Sleep well, both of you."  
Sydney waited until Sue disappeared into the bedroom before raising an eyebrow. "Roses? Does this have something to do with Carmen Mendoza?"

  
Jonas hated how easily his sister saw through him. "Maybe."

  
Sydney rolled her eyes mightily. "Jonas, for your sake I really wish you would pick another girl. Any other girl. The village is full of them, and if you can't find one you like, we'll search the whole countryside until we find the right one for you. The right one being literally any girl not engaged to Neil."

  
"She's not engaged."

  
"She might as well be, the way he treats her. The way she treats you, I might add."

  
"I don't want another girl," he muttered. "I lo--"

  
Sydney made a quiet screeching sound. "If you say that word about that girl I will not speak to you for a week."

  
Jonas frowned at his plate of half-eaten food. He didn't remember what he was going to say because just then the bedroom door opened. They froze until they saw it was just Sue.

  
"I remembered something that might interest you, Jonas," she said, clearly happy at the prospect of helping him. "It's just an old tale, but they used to say that the only place roses grew was deep in the forest, on the road to North Town."

  
"I didn't know there was a road through the northern forest," said Sydney.

  
Sue nodded. "Oh, there wouldn't be any reason for you to know. No one's used it for as long as I can remember. I guess whatever town used to be up there stopped trading, and then there was no reason to use the road so people sort of forgot about it. There even used to be a fairytale we told when I was just a little girl that there was a castle surrounded by an abandoned city."

  
"Abandoned why?" Jonas asked, momentarily distracted from his rose plight.

  
"Well, now, the old stories all say different things, it was so long ago. Most likely everyone died from the plague. Others believed the castle had been put under an enchantment by a powerful witch who had been scorned by the king, and that she cursed him, his servants, and the entire town to wander the earth as ghosts for eternity. That's just a silly old wives tale, though." She laughed at herself. "Oh!" she added, as though startled out of her own thoughts. "That story is the reason roses don't grow here. Because the witch cursed the land, too. Something about the king not deserving beauty, I think? They grew in the forest, just beyond the castle and out of his reach where he would see them and be reminded of what he could never again have."

  
"But is it true?" Jonas asked hopefully. "About the roses, I mean."

  
"I don't know," Sue said thoughtfully, making her way back to her bedroom. "They used to say there was all kinds of things in those woods, living and otherwise. Things that were natural, like roses, and things that...weren't." She paused and looked back at Jonas. "Here I am, rambling on. Was that at all helpful. Was that what you wanted to know?"

  
He smiled back at her. "Yes, it's exactly what I wanted to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter coming in a week, because I am a creature of habit if nothing else. Feedback welcomed!


	2. Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter two! Thanks so much for reading. Go support your friendly neighborhood Mars (smokeplanet) on Tumblr, tapas, and patreon.

  
"You can't be serious."

  
"Come on, Sydney. Where's your sense of adventure?" Jonas found that hard to say with the lump of fear swelling in his throat.

  
Sydney snorted. "Back home in bed with my practicality and common sense." Button snorted beneath her, clearly agreeing that she, too, would rather be asleep than traipsing through the forest in the middle of the night.

  
"Just a little bit further," Jonas told them both, though his confidence was quickly slipping away.

  
"You said that an hour ago," Sydney grumbled. Even though she sounded like she was just complaining, Jonas knew she was starting to worry. And if she was worried, Jonas knew he had every reason to be, too.

  
He'd had no problem convincing Sydney to go with him into the forest, despite all the odds being stacked heavily against them actually finding a rose, because she wouldn't risk him going by himself. Maybe, he ventured, she also needed an adventure. So they'd saddled up the horses and searched for the path into the woods.

  
It was disconcerting how quickly they found it. Though overgrown with brush, saplings, and weeds, it lay just beyond the main road into town. Jonas knew he must have walked by it a hundred times in his life yet never saw it. He thought it had just been hiding, waiting there until he needed to find it.

  
That's what he thought at first, anyway. Now something more ominous pulled at the back of his thoughts. The feeling only grew the deeper into the forest they traveled.

  
The horses walked dutifully on, picking and pushing their way through the underbrush. It made Jonas happy that they seemed to know where they were going because he sure as hell didn't. At one time the road must have been very worn to still be visible at all after so long without use. Even so, Jonas and Sydney constantly strained to pick it out from the surrounding forest.

  
It had now been at least an hour. The forest was large and sprawling. Jonas kept thinking that at any moment they would reach a clearing, a crossroads, some marker of where they were, but they never did. They were surrounded on all sides by a never-ending sea of trees. He got the feeling that getting lost meant getting lost forever.

  
The longer they walked, the more uneasy Jonas became. Though the moon filtered down through the trees there was an unnatural sort of darkness surrounding them. Jonas hoped he just thought that because he was spooked but couldn't seem to shake a gnawing feeling in his stomach. He pulled the collar of his tattered coat higher on his neck. The day was long over and the cold truly began to set in.

  
Whether the forest was haunted or not, they still had to get back without tiring the horses too badly, even though Bud seemed perfectly content to plod along through the overgrown trail.

  
Sydney piped up again, "We wouldn't be able to see roses in the dark like this anyway."

  
"It's not like I wanted to come in the middle of the night," Jonas snapped, his irritation overriding his fear for a minute. "It's not like Dean would let us come back during the day." He stopped himself, already embarrassed at his outburst. "Sorry, Syd. I'm not actually mad at you."

  
"I hope not," Sydney said, and there was only a hint of hurt in her voice. "You did drag me out here to help you, you know."

  
"I know. Sorry."

  
She reached across the space between the horses and ruffled his hair. "It's okay, Jojo. I was hoping we'd find roses, too, even if it is to woo the most ungrateful girl in town. We can sneak away from Dean and come back. Preferably when we can see more than ten steps in front of our faces." He thought he heard her add, "And when it isn't so damn spooky," under her breath.

  
Jonas was about to agree when Button halted. Bud plodded to a stop beside her. Bud, for all his flaws, was the most imperturbable horse in existence; if something scared him, it was not something to be taken lightly. And there was no doubt he was afraid; Jonas could feel the muscles in Bud's back tense beneath him. The horses' terror was infectious. Cold licks of fear shot through his limbs.

  
"Jonas," Sydney whispered. He looked at her just long enough to see her usually heavy-lidded eyes wide and darting, searching for what they all felt in the air. She turned Button back towards home. Jonas moved to do the same. Something snapped just past his line of sight. Both horses jumped. Their hooves pounded the ground as they danced nervously, searching the darkness for whatever terrified them so.

  
"Jonas." Sydney clearly strained to keep Button from running. Even so she reached out towards him, searching for a way to get him moving.

  
"Easy," Jonas said, patting Bud's side. He tugged at the reins. Bud normally complied easily, but large bushes and deep shadows hemmed in the path where they stood and froze Bud in his tracks.

  
All at once the horse heaved beneath him, shooting forward so quickly that Jonas nearly toppled off. He barely caught himself, twisting his fingers in Bud's mane. He realized in a moment of horror that he'd dropped the reins in the process. He didn't know the old plow horse could run so fast, and now there was nothing he could do but hang on. The reins flapped uselessly just out of his reach.

  
He had no doubt that something chased them. He felt it like a dark presence at his back. It took him longer than it should have through the fog of fear to recognize the howls around him and even longer to identify their source.

  
Wolves. Wolves that were tearing through the brush much more quickly than Bud could run.

  
They would be on Jonas in minutes.

  
"Run," he urged, pressing his heels into the horse's heaving side. Without reins there was no way to guide Bud. Jonas wasn't sure he could have anyway. Trees rushed past them at incredible speeds. He could do nothing but hold on and trust the horse and its instincts to carry them to safety. "Please, run." Panic saturated his voice. He dared to turn his head just enough to see a pair of glowing eyes steadily coming closer.

  
His head was still turned when the trees fell away, the sky opened up, and the ground dropped. Bud and Jonas both cried in surprise. After that Jonas was aware only of a sensation of falling. He'd read so many books about heroes who could fly and the idea had always seemed so inviting. He'd spent hours imagining himself as weightless as the clouds.

  
As it turned out, weightlessness was terrible.

  
The drop only lasted a few seconds but so many things went wrong it felt like it should have been minutes. Bud twisted in the air. Jonas came dislodged from the saddle. He found himself hurtling towards the earth completely upside down. It was only luck that when they met solid ground once again the horse did not land on top of him. Still they didn't stop falling. They slid down an embankment. As it was Jonas was below Bud; one wrong twist and he'd be flattened. Bud rolled, his hooves thrashing in the air, barely missing Jonas' head.

  
By the time they stopped moving Jonas was so disoriented he couldn't budge. He pressed his face to the cold ground. He couldn't shake the feeling he was still falling. Fear and dizziness churned his stomach. If he stood he'd be sick. The looming threat of wolves pressed him to try standing anyway.

  
Searing pain shot up his left leg the second he put weight on it. He cried out and fell back to the ground with a jarring thud. Staying down was not an option. Instead he crawled over to Bud, who was trying to stand as well. If the horse stood and bolted, Jonas would be left for dead.

  
"Easy, boy," he said as gently as he could while terrified and crawling. He looked up to the top of the steep slope. He didn't see any wolves. Not yet. He couldn't decide if that was good or not. Maybe it meant he had a few minutes still. The sound of their howls wrapped around him, seeping into his veins and fueling his terror.

  
Bud made it to his feet and stood there, clearly dazed. His long ears swiveled towards Jonas, then twisted back. The howls pressed in around them.

  
"I'm almost there. Don't move. Good boy." He wondered if a horse could hear the desperation in his tone. He could almost reach the reins. Just a little further...

  
Bud jerked his head. Jonas sobbed, sure the horse would do the smart thing and run. Jonas could hardly blame him. Bud didn't run. Instead he stared, looking as horrorstruck as a horse could, with his eyes rolling until the whites showed. It was a gaze filled with terror and it was looking not towards the forest and the wolves but in the opposite direction.

  
Jonas hadn't thought to spare whatever was behind him a passing glance. He looked now and saw only shadows, spots of ink in the dark.

  
The howling grew closer. He didn't have time to ponder.

  
Even though it made his leg feel like it might snap, he pushed himself upward and lunged for the reins. Somehow he managed to pull himself to his feet. Bud became restless. He yanked his head and nearly ripped the reins from Jonas' grasp again. But the horse's attention still was not on the wolves. Jonas' heart thudded.

  
He spared another quick glance to the empty darkness behind him. At first he saw nothing. Then, between the shadows, something moved. Jonas couldn't tell what it was but instantly knew it wasn't good. He tried to swing himself onto Bud's back but his leg wouldn't allow it. He felt a sickening pop as it jarred against the ground. It took all he had not to collapse again, and when he cried out Bud tried to jerk away.

  
Real horror sank into Jonas' chest. He couldn't get on Bud's back. He had no escape. The kind thing to do, he thought distantly, would be to send Bud running, to let the horse survive at least.

  
In the end, he couldn't bare to let go.

  
"Please," he whispered, clinging to the reins and Bud's mane with all he had, "please don't leave me."

  
The wolves were closing in from one side, the ominous shadow on the other. He thought he heard footsteps.

  
He waited.

  
Something grabbed him. He'd read about this moment in a hundred different books and had imagined himself as the hero who sprang into action or fought purely out of instinct. Back in the land of reality, Jonas froze. Even his scream caught in his throat. He went limp as the thing--the dark shadow now solid and strong around his waist--lifted him.

  
And put him up on Bud's back.

  
The shadow had manifested itself into a cloaked figure. Jonas was so confused that at first he couldn't process the voice that said in a low rumble, "Head straight through the town towards the castle. Make sure you go through the gates."

  
Jonas found himself blinking owlishly. "What?"

  
The shadow snarled. "Just GO." It reached out and slapped the horse's rear.

  
Bud didn't need any more persuading. Jonas did his best to keep the horse moving straight, on a path he could barely see in the darkness. A path that led him closer to the shadows in the distance that he now saw were buildings. At least, they were once: now they were only remnants of what must have once been a large town. Bud flew past row after row of houses. Jonas recognized stands and booths and other telltale signs of a market. Even in the darkness he could see that it was all abandoned and crumbling.

  
After a few minutes a high wall rose up before him. Jonas had no time to think before bursting through the open gates. Bud continued running. Jonas' brain didn't catch up until they flew through another set of gates in another looming wall and towards what could only be a castle. Its tall turrets were unmistakable. A small, distant part of his mind mourned the fact that he had to see something so magnificent under such conditions. Then...

  
He didn't know what to do.

  
In the end he didn't have to decide: the massive doors of the castle swung open with a great creak. Bud hardly slowed his gallop before springing up the wide stairs and into the castle, seeming to think anyplace indoors was safer than outside with the wolves. Jonas didn't have time to rethink this decision: the doors slammed shut behind them.

  
Together the boy and horse found themselves in a grand hall. The ceiling reached higher than the tallest trees Jonas had ever seen. Bud kept running, his hooves deafening on the stone floors. Jonas wondered how he would get the animal to stop without reins before figuring they'd hit a dead end eventually. They burst unceremoniously through yet another set of open doors and into a massive, round room with sweeping staircases on either side. Bud came to a halt perfectly beneath a chandelier.

  
For a moment they did nothing. Bud shook; Jonas shook. The horse was too afraid to stand completely still and paced; Jonas was too afraid to get down and clung to the shivering horse. He was too exhausted to even look around. For a few long moments he buried his face in Bud's fur, breathing in the comforting smells of horse and hay.

  
He lifted his head when he felt Bud's restless steps shift as he moved forward. Bud walked without Jonas' prompting deeper into the castle. The next room they entered was smaller. Thank goodness. Jonas felt oddly vulnerable in the cavernous rooms, and while this one was still large, he at least didn't feel lost in it. Maybe it felt more comfortable since there was furniture, like a couple of plush chairs in one corner and what looked like a fainting couch in another. A table long enough to seat at least a dozen people stretched down its length. The room was magnificent.

  
It was also a wreck.

  
Broken plates littered the floor along with piles of what looked like food. Something hung from the table--a cloth of some sort, soiled and stained. Chairs were flipped over, some smashed, their splinters scattered. A centerpiece lay on its side, some of the flowers dangling off the tabletop.

  
Jonas felt his eye twitch. If not for his leg, he would have jumped down and started cleaning. Though, looking at the wreck before him, he wouldn't even know where to start.

  
He tried very hard not to look directly at the mess.

  
In the middle of the wall running the length of the table was a fireplace. Jonas briefly wondered if he could move nearer without frightening Bud. In the end he decided just to stay where they were, letting Bud wander as he pleased. It wasn't as though he was actually cold, anyway; it was fear that chilled him.

  
It only occurred to him at that moment that if there was a fire then there had to be someone who'd lit it.

  
After this realization Jonas couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching him. It was probably just paranoia. Then again... Maybe it was the shadowy figure from before? They'd told him to run to the castle; maybe they lived here. He recalled the way Bud reacted to them. Whoever it was seemed to have saved him, so they couldn't be so bad. Or, they sent him into the castle so they wouldn't have to share with the wolves.

  
He snorted. As though it mattered. He might not know what waited for him in this castle, but it couldn't be any worse than what was guaranteed to happen to him if he faced the wolves. He'd take his chances.

  
Yeah. After all, he only had to make it through the night. Then he'd go home.

  
Despite the ice of fear still coursing through his veins he felt sleep crashing over him. He couldn't get down from Bud's back--and if he was honest with himself he was a little afraid to--so he just leaned forward, buried his head in the horse's matted grey fur, and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who the mysterious shadow could be...
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented and liked! It really just makes my day :')


	3. Candle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that Long Exposure update, huh? This fanfiction made possible by Mars (smokeplanet).   
> Also, I saw the BatB movie this weekend and the whole time was thinking about Mitch and Jonas. I am all-consumed.  
> Thanks for reading~

* * *

"Who the fuck is that?"

  
It was just a whisper but to Jonas' drowsy ears it might as well have been shouting. His eyes had only just drifted closed but instantly popped open again. But when he raised his head and looked around there was no one in sight who might have spoken.

  
Part of him--the exhausted part--wanted to pretend he hadn't heard anything at all. To put his head back down and deal with everything at a more decent hour. He might have done just that, except that as his eyes fluttered closed, a loud thunk came from inside the room.

  
With an internal groan, he decided to face this mystery head-on.

  
Tentatively he called out, "Hello?" Maybe the shadowy figure returned. Jonas tried to put his apprehension aside, though his voice got quieter. "Is anyone there?"

  
He was met with only silence and the crackle of the fire. Bud's ears swiveled back towards him, curious at the interruption, then relaxed again. It did a lot to calm Jonas to see the horse so unconcerned.

  
He began to wonder if he'd just dreamed the voice. Hoped, maybe. Admittedly, after the night he'd had, it was a foolish hope. Then again Bud certainly didn't seem alarmed the way he had when the shadow first approached them outside. In fact the horse now stood still and calm, his breathing slow, apparently just as eager to sleep as Jonas.

  
Exhaustion gnawed at Jonas. He decided he didn't care if something lurked in the shadows, so long as it let him get some sleep. He made himself as comfortable as a person could while sleeping on a horse's back. By the time his eyes drifted shut he heard another voice, deeper than the first. This time he was positive it came from somewhere just behind him.

  
"He must have been what the wolves were after," it said quietly, clearly not meant for him to hear. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to sleep even though his heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his ears. He didn't think the voice belonged to the shadow-person. He couldn't be sure. Everything happened so quickly.

  
A third voice spoke, much less quietly than her companions. "Should I poke him?"

  
A pause. A much longer pause than Jonas was comfortable with considering the topic. Finally, the second voice said, "No, don't poke him. I'm sure he'll leave in the morning on his own."

  
"Why does that mean I can't poke him?"

  
"Just let her do it or she won't shut up about it." Jonas recognized the first voice by its unfortunate accent.

  
"Because we don't want him to see us and tell people about this place. It's not worth it."

  
"Won't they just think he's crazy?" A deep sigh. "Oh, come on, Javi. Look at his cheeks. Just one..." There was a clatter of metal. Startled, Jonas had to concentrate to keep from opening his eyes. He hoped the people speaking didn't notice him jump. "...little..." More clattering moving towards him. Maybe this person had a false leg? He thought those sometimes had metal caps on the end. "...poke."

  
Something nudged the bottom of his foot. Quiet cursing ensued from the other side of the room.

  
No sense in pretending to be asleep now. Jonas peeled open his eyes, expecting to see someone standing there but finding no one. Confused, he looked down. It didn't make sense: the only thing at his foot was a candelabrum. A candelabrum that was...looking up at him.

  
Oh, no.

  
"Hello," it said, the light of its candles flickering, illuminating metal elaborately carved to look like a little person. It had a shockingly human face highlighted by built-up strands of green wax dripping from the lopsided candle atop its head. It was grinning.

  
"Hello," Jonas said back politely. Calmly.

  
It suddenly seemed obvious to him what happened: Bud actually did fall on him as they rolled down the hill together. Or Jonas had taken a hoof to the head. Either way he now imagined the candlesticks were speaking. Maybe he was dead and this was the afterlife. He'd read poems in which the afterlife was filled with three-headed dogs, so why not talking candles?

  
He and the candelabrum regarded one another for a moment. Then, without preamble, it began to climb up his leg. It pinched the fabric of his pants between the ends of its two arms. The whole thing was carved like a little person in great detail, except that the drip pans were where her hands should have been, one of which was bare of its candle. She even wore exquisitely carved clothes, complete with torn trousers and a tattered riding coat. Why would someone go to so much trouble crafting details down to the buttons on the coat and then carve tears into the shirt?

  
Her face pinched in concentration as she struggled slowly upwards. Jonas just sat still and watched, feeling strangely detached and entirely unsure of what to make of this new turn of events. Maybe also a little lightheaded. The candles on her head and one "hand" burned dangerously close to the fabric of his pants; Jonas was mildly concerned about catching on fire.

He waited patiently as the candelabrum struggled to pull herself into his lap until eventually he just picked her up and settled her on the horse's back in front of him. She sat with her legs splayed like a child. She let out a huff of air. Could a candelabrum get winded?

  
The entire time she never stopped smiling.

  
Jonas couldn't quite decide if it was the smile that unsettled him or the thing smiling at him. Her silver  
was dark with tarnish but her little eyes glowed brightly with mischief, the color of fire but more...pinkish. She motioned for him to lean down. He did. Because why not. She reached for his face with the hand devoid of a burning candle, thank goodness.

  
She proceeded to poke his cheek.

  
He really should have seen that coming.

  
"Scratch," the other voice groaned. Jonas looked once again for its source but didn't see anyone. Then again, he was looking for a people when maybe he should have been looking for more living candelabra.

  
"Come on, Javier," the candle whined.

  
A movement finally caught Jonas' eye as a squat mantel clock waddled towards them. It had a disapproving, possibly concerned, look on its face. Which was, appropriately, the face of the clock, though the glass was cracked or dirty or...painted? "Come down. Now."

  
The candelabrum--Scratch--groaned but complied. "See ya, cutie," she said, waving her candle-hand in farewell before making her way back down to the floor. Only this time she didn't climb down Jonas' leg. Without pausing she flung herself from the horse's back. Bud was no small animal, and even Jonas sometimes balked at the distance from his back to the ground. Seeing the little candle fall so far sent a jolt through Jonas' already frazzled nerves. He reached for her automatically and nearly toppled off the horse.

  
Scratch hit the floor with a loud bang. Jonas watched, horrified, as one candle extinguished and the other one skittered and rolled across the floor, still flickering in the darkness. She lay still for one heart-stopping second before popping up and tottering off after her lost candle, cackling wildly as she went. She popped it back on its prong and used it to relight the one on her head. Jonas breathed a sigh of relief.

  
The clock--Javier--watched as the candle righted herself. Another burst of laughter drew Jonas's attention to what appeared to be a broken beer bottle hopping across the room. Jonas didn't know whether he was relieved or disturbed to find that, unlike the clock and candle, this object had no face, though clearly it still managed to speak. It guffawed at the candelabrum.  
Javier cursed and muttered while waddling away from Jonas. Scratch and the beer bottle followed a moment latter, still laughing. The three animated objects paid him no further attention as they made their way out of the room. The clock and bottle started arguing about something until the clock hissed, "Enough, Cliff. Say another fucking word about it and the next time we go up on the roof I'm gonna push you off."

  
Cliff, the bottle apparently, muttered something Jonas couldn't hear. He discovered that a long crack running horizontally through the bottle seemed to serve as a mouth. Where eyes should have been the glass was missing. Jonas felt properly disturbed.

  
It wasn't until the little trio stepped out the door that he realized he was about to lose his one chance to get answers. He twisted uncomfortably around in the saddle to face them. "Wait!" The three objects turned to look at him. He was pretty sure. "Can you tell me...where am I, exactly?" It seemed a more practical question than the one he really wanted to ask, which was, how are a clock, a candle, and a bottle talking?

  
"In the castle," said Scratch without missing a beat as though it was an obvious answer to a ridiculous question.  
Cliff sneered. Jonas thought so, anyway.

  
"Don't worry about it," said Javier. "Just stay here until morning, and then leave." Jonas tried to say something and the clock cut him off with the wave of a stubby arm, which seemed to be made of the filigree carvings on either side of his body. "I fucking mean it. Do not leave this room until morning. Then get out and don't come back."

  
"Or else," Cliff growled. Somehow, despite being less than a foot tall, he still managed to sound menacing enough that Jonas shrank away.

  
Jonas never got a chance to decide whether or not he wanted to know what "or else" referred to. "Or else" threw open the doors, nearly crushing the object-trio before they scrabbled out of the way. A gust of wind rushed through the room, dropping the fireplace to a dull glow. Jonas heard a quiet "Damnit," from the candelabrum as her candles extinguished.

  
The fire built itself back up slowly. Jonas was still surrounded by nearly complete darkness when he heard footsteps. Not the sharp clacking of wooden soles or even the press of soft leather he was accustomed to at home. It was a padding sound with a light click, like an animal stalking across stone floors.

  
Bud, startled from his dozing by the crash of the doors, whirled around. He snorted, scented the new arrival, and stomped his feet, fear back in his body in an instant. Jonas braced himself in case the animal decided to bolt. He realized, as a hunched shadow materialized between them and the door, that their only exit was cut off by whatever crept menacingly closer. Something on four legs that slowly rose up onto two and kept advancing.

  
Bud reared, backed up, tossed his head. Jonas cringed. He really couldn't take another fall. He also couldn't let whatever approached come any closer. He wanted to use Bud's nerves to his advantage and guide the horse's flailing body like a battering ram to keep whatever crept closer at a distance.

  
Except that in his exhaustion he'd forgotten that the reins still dangled helplessly out of his reach. Jonas flung himself over Bud's neck trying to reach them.

  
It did no good. The same hands that had lifted him onto Bud and saved him from the wolves now grabbed the collar of his coat, yanking him from the horse's back in one seamless motion. Jonas dangled helplessly at least a foot off the ground. The cold touch of claws brushed his throat. He reached blindly for something to hold and grabbed his captor's arm, recoiling when he found it covered in fur.

  
He looked at the creature before him.

  
What stared back at him was not human, not animal, but a twisted mix of the two. At first all Jonas saw was teeth, large, sharp, and yellow, glinting dangerously in the growing light of the fire. The next thing his eyes landed on were horns, curled back above the creature's head. Then he didn't have time to look any further because a deep growl rumbled through his entire body.

  
"What are you doing here?" Its words were caught between a yell and a snarl.

  
Jonas managed only an incoherent sputter. He tried to flail but found he couldn't move. He thought he might faint.  
The creature leaned in closer, close enough that a wave of gamy animal smell hit Jonas' nose. Did he smell blood? "I asked you a question, and I expect a fucking answer." When Jonas didn't respond, the beast curled back its lips even farther. "Did you come here to stare at the beast? Is that it?"

  
Jonas' eyes clamped shut of their own accord. Actually fainting didn't sound so bad; if he was going to die either way, he'd rather not be conscious for it. "I-I got lost in the woods," he said, "and then the wolves..." His already meek voice faded off into nothing. Otherwise he might have pointed out that it was this person-animal who told him to come into the castle in the first place. If Jonas was trespassing it certainly wasn't by choice.

  
His captor growled. The sound vibrated in Jonas' chest. A moment passed where nothing happened. Somehow that was worse as it forced Jonas' mind to provide him with a thousand different scenarios, none of which ended well for him. Most of them ended in Jonas being served as dinner.

  
Nothing his imagination suggested prepared him for being lowered to the ground. Slowly, carefully, giving him ample time to get his feet under him. His eyes popped open in surprise. The beast watched him. To Jonas' surprise, its expression had relaxed into something calmer, if still deeply unhappy. He was so surprised that he completely forgot about his leg. The moment he tried to put weight on it, the pain, a dull ache forgotten in the rush of talking clocks and dramatic entrances, awoke into full agony. He gasped. His body reacted automatically to take the weight off of the injury. Jonas toppled to the ground once more, not even with enough time to brace himself. He hit the floor with a dull thud. Stars blurred his vision.

  
"Jesus fuck. What...?" The creature took a step towards him but stopped when Jonas cowered away. The hand it reached toward Jonas snapped back by its side.

  
For the moment at least Jonas' pain outweighed his fear and he managed to say, "It happened when I fell. It's definitely sprained, at least. Maybe broken." God, he hoped that wasn't true. He gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering.

  
A long silence. Jonas watched the beast from the corner of his eye. It ran a hand through its hair, then again. Its eyes, Jonas noticed, were perhaps the most human thing about it. Him? It was at least partially human. Jonas squinted. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was pretty sure those were paws sticking out from beneath the tattered hem of the beast's cloak.  
The beast stared off at nothing. Thinking. His amber eyes flicked back up to look at Jonas. Jonas knew he was staring but couldn't bring himself to look away. He saw something flicker behind those eyes. He seemed to make a decision.

  
Jonas flinched but didn't fight when the beast stooped towards him and he once again found himself lifted. Fighting would only prolong death. Once again he found himself surprised as he was carried to--and unceremoniously dumped onto--the chaise lounge tucked away in the corner of the room. Scratches marred the luxurious fabric and bits of stuffing poked out through the tears, but Jonas sank down gratefully into it nonetheless.

  
Without warning the beast lifted one end and dragged the whole thing across the room towards the fireplace. Jonas gripped the backrest, determined not to fall again for as long as he lived. He was beginning to feel like a sack of potatoes, tossed carelessly to and fro.

  
Though he hadn't been devoured yet. So he supposed that was something to be grateful for. Even if he didn't understand why.  
Once the lounge was in its new spot by the fire, the beast simply turned and left, slamming the door behind him.  
Jonas waited. For the beast to return. For more furniture to come to life. For something else terrible to happen. He stared at the door until his neck, already stiffening, twinged sharply. He gave up waiting and flopped back onto the surprisingly comfortable couch. His head reeled from receding fear and lack of sleep.

  
Bud shuffled over from where he'd been cowering against the back wall, nuzzled Jonas' hair, and, apparently deciding all was well once again, settled back down without so much as a snort of complaint. Jonas scratched his chin. "Good horse."

  
Jonas didn't remember falling asleep, only that one moment he busied himself replaying what had just occurred in his mind and the next he was surrounded, at last, by darkness and nothing.

* * *

Mitch stood at the door for a long time, watching as the boy he'd saved from the wolves stared back at him. Well, not exactly; he couldn't know Mitch stood behind the door he undoubtedly thought was closed. When Mitch slammed it shut behind him it had popped back open, leaving a small gap, just enough for Mitch to peer through without being seen. He imagined the boy really was looking at him, though, and his heart thudded painfully. Not for the first time that night he had one distinct thought: how beautiful.

  
Admittedly, the rest of this night Mitch was mostly thinking, _shit shit shit shit_.

  
Especially when the boy actually did look at him and Mitch could see the fear in his eyes. Not that Mitch could blame him, but that didn't make it hurt less.

  
He needed to walk away. He knew that. The more he thought about it the more he felt compelled to stay. When would he have a chance to see such a gorgeous boy again? When had he ever seen such a gorgeous boy? All those freckles. He could run his tongue over every single one. He salivated at the thought and for once was happy not to know whether it was his beast or human side responsible.

  
"Uh, bro?"

  
Mitch nearly jumped out of his skin. He backed away from the door quickly. "What?" he snapped, as quietly as he could manage.

  
Javier leaned to one side. Since becoming a clock, it was the closest thing he could manage to a quizzical head tilt, even if Mitch thought it made him look more drunk than curious. "You're bleeding all over the place." Javier pointed to a small puddle of blood on the floor.

  
Mitch swiped at his arm, wincing as his fingers grazed the lacerations left by a particularly nasty wolf that managed to get ahold of him. "It's almost stopped." He waved Javier off, careful to use his uninjured arm. He plastered on a sneer. "What, you worried? When did you get so stuffy?"

  
Javier sighed. "When I got cursed, probably. What do you want to do about that?" He pointed a stubby arm at the door that Mitch was already trying to distance himself from.

  
"I don't give a shit." A lie. "He's just some kid who got lost in the woods. He'll leave in the morning and that'll be the end of it." The thing he unexpectedly wished wasn't true.

  
"Where are you going now?" Javier called after him as he stomped off.

  
"The cellar. I need a fucking drink." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Mitch appears. Jonas uses Cower. It's super effective!  
> Thanks for commenting; everytime I get a comment I cry with joy.


	4. Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sweet babies belong to the incomparable Mars.

There was a moment, for a just few brief seconds when he first awoke, that Jonas was aware only of the comfort of his bed and the wetness of his own drool against his face.

  
Then everything from the previous night crashed on top of him.

  
The castle in the daylight looked no different than the castle at night. At least, not in the room in which he'd slept, an inner room without any windows that would clearly be dark even in the middle of the day. The fire still roared as brilliantly as the night before. Had someone been in to stoke it? It illuminated the room that was every bit as messy as he recalled. He was kind of hoping he'd dreamed that part up at least.

  
Jonas stretched while he tried to take stock of his situation. Somehow he of all people had managed to land in what seemed to be an enchanter's castle. That was the only explanation he could think of that didn't involve a trip to the afterlife. In a way it was what he'd always dreamed of since he was a child reading stories about the heroes who left behind a dull town for a grand adventure. Then again he'd never considered the downsides, what with wolves and ravines and beasts.

  
A shiver ran up his spine as he thought of the beast, accompanied by a confusing rush of memories. Saved. Attacked. Released. He didn't know what to think about any of it. Because at the end of the day, Jonas faced an inhuman beast and it hadn't actually hurt him.

  
A new thought occurred to him. Was the beast from the night before a sorcerer? Or was he some sort of guard? There could be more people in the castle. More enchanted items. He cast a suspicious glance at the chaise lounge beneath him.

  
His stomach growled so loudly that for a moment he imagined it was the beast returning after all. He reasoned that the piles of food on the floor came from somewhere. Maybe there was a kitchen or storeroom. Though he didn't want to impose any more than he already had, and he certainly wouldn't stoop to stealing food. Maybe he should just leave.

  
First he needed to test his leg.

  
Every muscle in his body ached. Every injury stiffened as he slept. He moved slowly, rolled his ankle gingerly and, finding it only mildly sore, attempted to stand. It still hurt but not nearly to the same degree. He sighed in relief. Probably not broken, then. As long as he kept most of his weight on his right leg, he could walk, even if it was slow and shaky.

  
No sooner had he started than he stopped again. Two pieces of information hit him at once.

  
First, Bud was gone. Jonas' eyes swept over the room once, then twice, then a third time. The rational part of him knew the large animal couldn't exactly hide, not even in a room so large, but he couldn't stop himself from checking nonetheless. The doors remained closed; the beast slammed them shut on his way out. Someone must have led Bud away. It was a castle. There must be stables somewhere on the grounds. Yeah, it made sense that someone would take the horse back outside.

  
He hoped.

  
His second observation could not be so easily explained.

  
Amidst the mess of broken plates, smashed food, and broken furniture, a single spot at the table was cleared away and set with plates and silverware and stemware, all of which appeared clean and unbroken. Jonas was positive none of it had been there moments ago. He hobbled his way over to investigate.

  
Besides the empty plate there were several covered dishes. Jonas lifted a lid. Shock filled him when he saw a steaming bowl of porridge. He lifted another lid and found bacon. And a fresh loaf of bread. Butter. Eggs. Little pots of honey and jam.

  
"Is this for me?" he said to no one in particular. His mouth watered. If there was any part of him concerned about eating food that magically appeared when his back was turned, another growl of his stomach silenced it. He reasoned that if anyone wanted him dead they would have killed him as he slept, not fix him a meal just to poison him.

  
Any remaining reservations melted away when the first bite of bread touched his tongue. "Oh," he practically moaned. It was just bread yet he knew he'd never tasted something anything so delicious before. The outside crackled and gave way to the still-warm, moist middle. It didn't even need butter or jam. He tried both. Moaned some more.

  
Eagerly he tried some of the porridge. The second it hit his tongue he gagged. Not only was it burned, the porridge was so salty that Jonas began to choke. His eyes watered. He could barely see the goblet in front of him. He didn't care what was in it and drained the entire thing. Even then his throat burned with smoke and salt.

  
He almost didn't dare touch the bacon or eggs. His stomach urged him to venture it. Everything seemed in order, and to his relief, the rest of the meal went without incident. He banished the porridge back to its pot.

  
By the time he finished he was happy and full, and felt ready to face the day.

  
The castle seemed even larger now that Jonas didn't have Bud. Everything carried an abandoned air yet he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It didn't help that every shadow seemed to move and that the shadows were everywhere. Piles of what turned out to be broken statues lay scattered across the floor.

  
Forget abandoned. The castle was in a state of actively crumbling around him.

  
The only thing he could think to do was go back the way he'd come the night before. It wasn't until he started walking that he realized he had no idea where he was. He thought they'd come in straight through a hall and an entryway. Yet somehow, Jonas found himself not in that grand entryway but walking down an entirely different hallway. He wondered if maybe he just misremembered. He had been tired and afraid, after all. But no, he distinctly remembered the sweeping staircases and chandeliers.

  
Just in case he really was mistaken, Jonas hobbled down the hallway. It ended in a stairway climbing up a tower. Obviously this wouldn't lead to any stables. And, to be perfectly honest, he was in no mood to climb any stairs. Irritated, he made the long walk back.

  
Except that when he walked back through the door that should have taken him back to the dining hall, he emerged instead into a small round room with windows that opened into a courtyard. He brightened. The courtyard was exactly where he wanted to end up, and he assumed the doors at the other side of the room would take him there. He opened them and nearly screamed. The same dark hallway he'd just left loomed in front of him.

  
"This is not possible!" he shouted, maybe at the castle itself. It must be another enchantment, he reasoned, though he couldn't imagine why someone would want their castle to make their guests wander aimlessly forever. He shut the door and crossed back through the round room. "My leg hurts, I'm tired of walking, and I just want to go there," he muttered, gesturing out the window. He paused at the door. "Please?"

  
This time when he faced the same hallway he only sighed and trudged dutifully along. Fine. The castle wanted him to go up the stairs? He would go up the stairs. He would have stomped the whole way if his ankle weren't hurt.

  
Annoyance more than curiosity pushed him forward. He had the option to go down or up. Assuming the castle couldn't also enchant upward-moving stairs to spit him out in the basement--and, frankly, he felt no confidence in assuming any such thing--then he'd choose upstairs. Climbing stairs with a sprained ankle was no easy task but somehow Jonas managed, even if he was huffing by the time he reached the top.

  
He found himself wandering down another dark corridor. Of course. He tried to be grateful that at least it was a different dark corridor than the one that persistently led to stairs. Only small slitted windows lined the outer wall, which let in very little light and a lot of cold wind. A door waited for him at the end.

  
"Does it even matter which doors I go through?" he wondered aloud. "Am I just going to end up in the same place anyway? Because then you could have just...you know, cut out the stairs maybe."

  
He was so busy scolding his imaginary adversary that he didn't pause at all before flinging the door open. Then he was so busy looking around that he didn't notice the beast until he was too deep in the room to turn around.

  
"Hey," it called.

  
Jonas jumped. He'd been examining what appeared to be a study--just as defaced as the rest of the castle, with broken furniture and scattered objects, including piles of books so damaged he could have wept over their corpses.

  
He spun. The beast lounged in the corner of the room on the remains of what must have once been a magnificent piece of furniture, with his arms behind his head and his long legs stretched and crossed at the ankles. Jonas suspected he had been sleeping. One eye was cracked lazily, watching Jonas. Even with two sharp fangs poking over its lips, there was no doubt in Jonas' mind that the beast was smirking at him.

  
He really felt at his wit's end.

  
He wasn't sure what to expect after last night. His neck still ached where he'd dangled by his coat. Admittedly, the rest of him ached, too. The beast made no move against him and didn't seem inclined to do so. Jonas tried to hold his ground even as he felt his shoulder pull inwards, glad that for the moment at least his irritation outweighed his fear.

  
"So, Spots. What brings you my way?"

  
Spots? Ugh. He scowled. "I didn't do it on purpose. The castle kind of just...insisted I come here." He flushed, realizing how crazy it sounded to suggest a castle imposed its will on him.

  
The beast grinned. In the light of day his teeth were more horrifying than Jonas could have imagined. They took up half his face. Which said a lot, considering how long his face was. Actually, if his teeth weren't so sharp he would have reminded Jonas a bit of a horse. He knew he was staring but couldn't stop. Luckily the beast didn't seem to notice."Yeah, it does that sometimes. Where were you tryin' to go?"

  
"I was looking for the stables. My horse. So I could leave."

  
Something darkened in the beast's eyes. The grin faltered. It only occurred to Jonas in that moment that he might have no intentions of letting Jonas leave. But that wouldn't make any sense. Either the beast wanted him dead or it didn't. Keeping him here accomplished nothing.

  
The moment passed. "Come on, Spots. I'll take you." It stood and stretched. Languidly, like a cat. The beast wore only ripped pants and the same tattered cloak, so most of its body was bared. Every bit of it was entirely covered in tannish fur except for darker patches here and there, like a long strip that ran down the middle of its chest, belly, and down to--

  
Jonas looked away quickly from where the dark strip of fur disappeared into the line of the beast's low-hung pants. Inappropriate, even for something inhuman.

  
With the beast leading the way, their path through the castle was much more straightforward. Jonas thought they still went through more turns than really made sense, but at least the rooms through which they passed never repeated.

  
They walked in silence. Jonas had a difficult time keeping his eyes off the creature before him. He walked on two huge paws like a wolf's, and Jonas was pretty sure he saw a bushy tail beneath the cloak. Tall and lanky but obviously strong. He noticed that it kept rubbing one arm. Jonas wondered if it was a tick. Or maybe it was fleas.

  
Jonas cleared his throat. "I never really got a chance to thank you for saving me from the wolves. That was you, wasn't it?"

  
The beast looked back at him, surprised, and laughed. "Yeah, well. Those things are a pain in my ass. If you hadn't come along I probably would've started a fight with them anyway." He scratched at his forearm, wincing as he did. "They probably thought it was their lucky day, finding you. People don't come this far into the forest. Especially at night. What did you say you were doing again?"

  
"My sister and I..." Jonas frroze. His mouth hung open wordlessly. He'd been so busy worrying about himself that he hadn't thought about Sydney.

  
The beast noticed he wasn't following and took a step back towards him. "Your sister..?" His eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't see anyone else with you."

  
"We got separated. When the wolves came. I couldn't get Bud turned quickly enough and he bolted in the opposite direction. She-she must have gone back through the forest. Back towards home." His legs felt weak so he sank to the floor. Jonas and Bud only ran through the forest for a few minutes before the path cleared and they fell. Button and Sydney would have gone back the way they'd come, with home miles away over a congested pathway. A wolf could easily have caught up and...

  
"Whoa, hey, are you alright? You, uh, kinda look sick."

  
Jonas clenched his eyes shut but that only increased the swirling in his head. He began to regret the big breakfast he'd eaten.

  
"Fuck. Let's get you outside."

  
The beast hesitated for just a second as he reached forward. Jonas shuddered at the thought of being lifted again. Not that he was in any position to argue. Thankfully, the arm that wrapped around him only supported him onto his feet and guided him forward and he leaned into it even as his skin crawled.

  
Jonas could have wept with joy when they finally stepped into a courtyard. A part of him truly believed he'd never make it out of the castle. That he'd spend eternity doomed to wandering an ever-changing maze of poorly-lit hallways. He gulped in mouthfuls of fresh air, grateful for once for the sharp cold. It cleared his nausea.

  
After a moment he managed to lift his head. He also became dimly aware of the hand still on his back, rubbing small, slow circles lightly into his skin. When he peered up the beast stopped and took a small quick step away from him. If Jonas didn't know better he would have thought the beast looked embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Feeling better?"

  
Jonas shook his head. "Not really."

  
"Is there...something I can do?"

  
"Not really. Do you think...if the wolves came after me then they wouldn't go after Sydney, too, right?" The cautious hope in his voice was too much, even to his own ears. He winced. "No, don't answer that. I just need to get home."

  
The beast looked mildly uncomfortable. "The stables are over there." He made no move to follow Jonas.

  
"You aren't coming?" He didn't know why he asked.

  
"Animals don't exactly like me."

  
"Oh." That made sense. He hesitated. "I'm not going to walk through the stable door and end up in the kitchen, am I?"  
The beast laughed, putting his teeth on full display. "You should be good."

  
Jonas didn't feel very reassured.

  
The stables were on the other side of a small courtyard that was surrounded on all sides by walls of the castle. One wall had an arched gateway. Jonas wondered if that was the way he'd entered. Somehow he didn't think so.

  
Again he regretted not discovering the castle under better terms: the stable doors alone he could have studied for hours.

Every inch was carved with horses: rearing, frolicking, dressed for war, colts prancing while their mothers slept under trees. It needed a deep cleaning, like every other part of the castle. Jonas pushed through.

  
Bud stood in a stall, perfectly at home munching a stack of hay. His saddle was still on. He noticed Jonas and nickered a greeting, then went back to his lunch.

  
He continued chewing as Jonas led him from the stall. Luckily Jonas found a mounting block tucked away in a corner, so he managed to get up on Bud's back without much problem.

  
The beast still waited in the courtyard. Bud noticed him and faltered, but moved forward with gentle prodding.

  
The beast eyed the horse warily even as he spoke to Jonas. "You can't leave." The words came out in a rush.

  
It was so unexpected. Now that Jonas was back on Bud and felt a little bolder, he felt a flash of anger rather than fear. "I can and I have to," he growled. "You can't keep me trapped here."

  
The beast scowled. He rubbed furiously at the same arm he'd worried all morning, and only now in the light of the outdoors did Jonas notice the blood caked into the fur there, mostly dried but with patches glistening wetly. He opened his mouth.

  
Jonas shook his head, as much to clear the image of the blood away as to stop whatever protest the beast was about to make. "I'm leaving." He nudged Bud towards the gates.

  
The beast moved in one fluid motion to block their way. He appeared almost as angry as when he'd grabbed Jonas the night before. "Would you just fucking listen to me for a minute? Look." He gestured with both hands out to the side.

  
Jonas didn't understand until he realized it wasn't a gesture at all but the beast holding out his hands and catching something in his palms. Snowflakes, falling slowly but persistently all around them. Already they clung to the cold stone of the courtyard.  
He swallowed thickly. "If I hurry," he said, all of his bravado gone, "I can make it through the forest before it gets dark."

  
The beast made a sound of disbelief. "Not likely. You really want to get trapped out there in a blizzard?"

  
"It won't be so bad in the forest." He tried to move forward only to be stopped again.

  
"And what about the wolves? You bet your ass they're out there just waiting and can run through the snow a hell of a lot better than you."

  
The snow fell more quickly now. Jonas had a vague thought that, if the beast really was an enchanter of some kind, he could very well be responsible for the bad weather. It didn't matter why it was snowing, though. All he knew was that he needed to get home, to Sydney.

  
"I have to leave," he said, barely a whisper. He wasn't sure the beast would hear him above the hush of the snow.

  
The snow was the only sound for a minute, while the beast stared Jonas down before suddenly shouting, "Shit," loudly enough to make Jonas and Bud both jump. "Fine. Let's go then."

  
Jonas blinked back at him. "'Let's'?"

  
The beast was already prowling away from him towards the gate. "I'm not gonna save you from the wolves then let them eat you the very next day. I can get you past the fuckers."

  
Jonas didn't move. The beast saved him, not a full day ago. That must be where the blood on his arm came from: he'd gotten hurt saving Jonas' life. And maybe he really could get Jonas past the wolves a second time, though he suspected they both knew it would cost him. And he especially didn't understand why the beast would save him the first time, much less be willing to do it again while injured. Thinking about it made his chest tight.

  
Jonas inhaled sharply, as much to steel himself against what he knew he had to do as to stop the threat of tears burning against his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonas forgets everything he knew about stranger danger and accepts food from an unknown source.  
> P.S. the next chapter is entirely in Mitch's POV and every third word is a swear.  
> Again, thank you for reading and especially to those who like and comment. I'm just...so happy??


	5. Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent all day convinced today was Monday. Ah, well, here it is! A Mitch chapter, i.e. an excuse to unleash my sailor mouth.   
> If you made it this far you know the characters and Long Exposure belong to Mars and that you should read the crap out of it.

Mitch wasn't afraid. No. Fuck that. He curled his lip up in a sneer. It'd be a cold day in hell before he let a little pack of wolves get the best of him. The snow swirled around him, the cold seeped into his wounds and burned, a painful reminder of flashing teeth and snapping jaws. And if he felt a flicker of dread in the pit of his stomach he pushed it down. What was the worst they could do, kill him? He snorted.

  
Dying wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a person.

  
Seeing someone else die, now that was a different story. Mitch didn't think he could stand himself if he let the boy go and found him later, lost and frozen in the snow. Or worse. The image of the boy torn apart by wolves, his soft features mutilated beyond recognition, crept into Mitch's mind and burned a hole there. If he had any more reservations, that was enough to quell them.

  
He kicked through a drift of snow already deep enough to sink his paws into. This was just in the courtyard; outside the palace walls they'd have to contend with hidden holes, and tough, dried grasses and plants. While Mitch was confident in his own ability to make it through, an old plow horse--especially one as mangy and beat-up as the one the boy road in on--might not fair so well. They needed to hurry.

  
"Hey, Spots," he called, glancing behind him. He had to do a double-take when he was met with only an empty courtyard. He froze, his heart stuttering. For one wild second he thought he'd imagined the entire thing. Then through the snow he saw the horse and boy just as they disappeared into the stables. Mitch let out a confused huff of air that steamed and curled around his face. Maybe the kid left something behind.

  
Mitch still didn't quite dare to go further than the threshold of the stables, even if the horse seemed slightly less afraid of him now. It only turned its head to look at him curiously. _Stupid thing_. The large room smelled of fresh hay and warm animal. After all these years he still didn't understand where the castle got its supply of food, but it seemed to be just as willing to accommodate a horse as any other guest.

  
Then again, maybe even a castle could be happy to be stuck with someone besides Mitch for a change.

  
As he watched the boy dismount, Mitch winced when he noticed him land on his foot painfully, bumping into the stall walls as he lost his balance. He shook it off and begin to untack the horse.

  
Wait. He was untacking? Mitch's heart pounded. He dared to take just one step closer. "Spots?" He hated the uncertainty in his voice almost as much as he hated the slithering feeling of desperation just beneath his skin.

  
The boy ignored him and flung the saddle over the side of the stall. He worked slowly with the practiced efficiency of someone who was comfortable with big animals. The horse rubbed its mouth affectionately over the boy's shoulder, and in return the boy pressed his face into the horse's neck. It was a dopey looking animal and in that moment Mitch wished he was in its place.

  
Something that was almost excitement came over him. Even though Spots wasn't looking at him he grinned. "Decided you couldn't get enough of me and just had to stay, huh?" Did he sound as crazed as he felt? God, he hoped not.

  
When he finally looked at Mitch, the boy's eyes were filled with surprise. And they were glossy, like he was trying not to cry. Shit. Mitch was not equipped to deal with that.

  
Spots blinked away the tears and scowled. "I don't really have a choice," he muttered. He looked deeply unhappy about that fact. He glanced up at Mitch for just a moment more before returning his gaze to the ground. "If I can have a blanket, I can just sleep in the hay loft," he added.

  
Mitch thought what would happen if the kid changed his mind and slipped away in the middle of the night. He struggled to keep his voice nonchalant. "Why? There's a whole fucking castle right there. Full of rooms and beds like you wouldn't believe. Come on. Your horse'll be here when you're ready for him."

  
Spots opened his mouth and shut it promptly again, clearly unable to come up with a good reason to stay in the stable. With a resigned sigh, he followed Mitch out of the stable and back into the castle. The snow fell harder.

  
As he led the way through the hallways, Mitch fought down warring emotions. On the one hand the kid had decided to stay. He'd be here at least until the snow stopped, and who knew how long that could be? Days, possibly. The thought made Mitch a little giddy, actually.

  
Then again, why should he feel that way? What exactly was he expecting? Every time the boy looked at Mitch it was with eyes full of fear and disgust. And while he had no plans to hurt the kid, the disgust part--well, there wasn't much room to disagree there.

  
"Um."

  
Mitch jumped. Just a little. "What?" he snapped. Inwardly he cringed at his own tone.

  
The boy frowned. "Is everything okay? You were sort of...growling."

  
Fuck. Of course. Instead of trying to explain himself, Mitch pulled up short in front of a door. Then he might have kicked it open with a bit more force than was necessary. It swung in and slammed into the wall so hard it vibrated. Spots jumped. He stared but looked away quickly when Mitch smirked down at him.

  
Mitch chose the nicest bedroom in the castle, because why the fuck not, but also because many of the others were wrecked. Okay, so he had been the one to wreck most of them. He was glad now that he could never quite bring himself to ruin this one: every time he'd thought about it, every time he need to tear into something and rip it to shreds, he'd imagined bringing his mother to the castle. He'd imagine how much she would love this particular room, with it's pale blue and gold colors. For an entire year he hovered around the room just so he could think of his mother, happy and with him. Long after he'd realized what a stupid dream that was, the bedroom still sat untouched, one of the last perfect places in the castle.

  
Mitch had to concentrate to keep his tail from switching with agitation as he stepped aside. Spots walked into the room, slow and uncertain, though it wasn't lost on Mitch when he softly ran a hand over the carved banisters of the bed and his face relaxed into something like awe.

  
He circled around to the window and looked out. They were on the uppermost floor of the castle. The view was great, though Mitch suspected that Spots didn't notice. He must be thinking of going home. That's what Mitch would be doing.

  
The kid had been a nice distraction that Mitch would hate to see gone. He needed to make the most of this. He rubbed his arm as he tried to think of something to say to keep himself in the room a little longer. The cuts itched and burned and he could feel the blood still oozing. "It's dusty, but the beds are comfortable as shit." He wiped his hand across his chest.

  
"It's nice," Spots agreed at last, eyes wide as he tried to take it all in. "Did this used to be the queen's chambers?"

  
Mitch blinked. "I guess, maybe?" That would explain why it had a secret door joining it to the next room, which undoubtedly belonged to the king. He'd never thought about it much, honestly.

  
There was a long paused in which he wracked his brain for something else to say, something to make the boy smile even, until at last he realized that was probably impossible at this point. Feeling deflated and annoyed, he stalked out of the room. He could go find Scratch and Cliff and find some unbroken part of the castle and tear it apart, too.

  
"Wait."

  
The boy stared at him, eyes wide and wondering like he was waiting to hear what he would say next, too. "I, um." He pointed. "I think you should clean that, so it doesn't get infected." The words fell out in a rush.

  
Mitch looked at his arm. "It's not a big deal."

  
Spots frowned. "It is, actually," he said with more firmness than Mitch had heard from him yet. He pulled himself up taller, which still only brought him level with Mitch's chest. How cute. "Get some hot water and bandages and I'll do it."

  
"Do what?" He was distracted by the way a few strands of the boy's hair clung to his face, damp from the snow.

  
"Clean your arm."

  
The thought of someone--this someone in particular--touching him sent a hot flush through his body. It had...been a while. He could have slapped himself for protesting. "You really don't need to do that."

  
Luckily the boy looked resolved. "It happened while you were saving me, so yes, I do." He shrugged out of his coat, folded it and put it on the foot of the bed, and rolled up his sleeves, revealing a slew of new freckles on soft looking arms. Mitch was so distracted once again that he didn't notice he was staring and that the boy was staring back expectantly.

  
"What?" he snapped, more harsh than he'd intended in his embarrassment.

  
Spots flinched but didn't back down. "Hot water. Bandages."

  
Mitch pointed to the little table behind him. Spots turned and had to shake off his confusion over finding a steaming basin of water and clean strips of cloth already waiting. He looked at Mitch suspiciously.

  
Mitch shrugged. "You're lucky the castle fucking likes you. If I'd asked for it we would've gotten burlap and a bowl of ice."

  
After a bit of shuffling and fussing, Mitch sat in a chair by a blazing fire. It was actually too hot for him, what with the cloak and fur and whatnot. In a minute he'd probably start sweating, and even though he didn't sweat as much as when he was human, it would be enough to make his fur look greasy after a while. Somehow sitting him near the fire seemed to put his cute little nurse at ease, so he kept his mouth shut.

  
The boy knelt at his side. Oh, there were so many ways he'd rather have this boy in particular kneeling for him. He licked his lips and committed the image to memory.

  
"Okay. Here we go." Water splashed as the boy wrung out the cloth he'd soaked. He peered up at Mitch, and for the first time it was not fear written on his face but concern. "This isn't going to feel very good."

  
His worried expression was adorable. Mitch couldn't help grinning, even if he knew it exposed his teeth. The boy was bent over his arm and too absorbed to really notice. "Tch. Don't worry your pretty head about me, Spots, I'm tougher than--HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT. Goddamn, that hurts worse than when it happened!" He jerked his arm away so hard he almost tipped his chair.

  
The boy jerked his hand back, alarmed. His eyes flitted to Mitch's mouth. "Sorry, I barely touched it!"

  
"Well, you sure as fuck aren't touching it again. It'll heal fine."

  
The boy rolled his eyes, though his face was still pinched with worry. He placed his free hand on Mitch's wrist, and though his touch was light, Mitch froze. "Just...hold still. Big baby."

  
"What did you just...SHIT." This time at least he managed not to jerk away. He dug his claws into the arms of the chair and felt the wood splinter beneath his claws.

  
"Sorry," Spots said. His voice was a soft murmur that sent a ripple through Mitch's body.

  
"What for?" he said through clenched teeth.

  
The boy just shook his head.

  
While it hurt like a motherfucker, Mitch could tell that Spots tried to be careful. He worked the cloth in meticulous, gentle motions, stopping occasionally to wring out the blood. The water was a cloudy red mess with bits of fur and crusty flecks floating on top.

  
To distract himself, he kept his eyes on the other boy's face. The way he scrunched his nose in concentration. His lower eyelid was rimmed in red. Was it because he'd cried earlier? He looked smart. Mitch knew for a fact he'd never thought that about anyone before. Yet his eyes were soft and kind, and every so often he peeked up at Mitch through long, dark lashes to check on him. It was unbearably cute. It did things to Mitch. Things beyond the expected...things.

  
The boy looked up and caught him staring. One of the few nice things about fur was that it hid his reddening face, so Mitch held his gaze, letting a lazy grin spread across his face until the boy's eyes snapped back down to his work. A light flush warmed his skin beneath his freckles.

  
"There," he said at last, apparently satisfied. He yanked his hand away. The satisfaction Mitch felt moments ago fizzled.

  
He had to admit that his arm did feel somewhat better. He could still see droplets of blood rising to the surface in the cuts but at least now the skin and fur around it was clear. "Damn, Spots. You did too good a job. My arm is so much cleaner than the rest of me, I might have to take a bath now."

  
"I can't tell if you're joking." There was genuine bewilderment in his voice. He sighed. "We'll let it dry and then bandage it, if that's okay."

  
"Whatever you want." Mitch leaned a little closer, just enough for Spots to notice, and dropped his voice to a low rumble. "What do you want to do until then?"

  
The boy shifted until he was able to pull his knees up to his chest. "For starters," he said, "you could tell me what this place is."

  
The smile slipped off Mitch's face. "Come on, Spots. I can think of a least a dozen better things to do. Want a suggestion?"

  
"Or you could help me come up with a plan for getting home."

  
Mitch's mouth went dry. Of course the kid wanted to go home. He knew that. He didn't blame him and wouldn't stop him. That didn't mean he'd be happy about it. "We'll worry about that tomorrow, if the snow stops."

  
"It has to." He sounded so sad that Mitch's heart wrenched. And he looked at Mitch and his eyes brightened momentarily. It sent such a painful jolt through Mitch that he physically winced. The boy didn't seem to notice and asked, "Did you...Are you the one who enchanted the castle?"

  
"You think if I could do something like that I'd still be here like this?" The kid's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak but Mitch cut him off. "It was like this when I got here."

  
Did he imagine disappointment on the boy's face? "So you're not...a cursed prince or king or something? Like from the story?"

  
Before he even realized what he was doing, Mitch tossed his head back and roared with laughter. He laughed until his ribs ached and he had to clutch his sides. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Good one, Spots. Yeah, I'm a fucking prince, alright."

  
Spots bristled. "It wasn't THAT ridiculous," he muttered. "You don't have to be an ass about it." His voice dropped on "ass", like he wasn't used to cursing. Possibly he wasn't.

  
Mitch sneered. "You're too cute to have such a dirty mouth, Spots."

  
The boy gawked, his mouth forming a perfect "O". Mitch half expected him to yell, or possibly throw the basin of water at Mitch's head. Instead he shut his mouth and held out his hand. "Arm," he demanded.

  
Mitch complied. "Come on, Spots, don't pout. I was just messing with you."

  
Even though he was clearly upset, every movement he made as he wrapped Mitch's arm was slow, deliberate, and careful. "Jonas," he said as he tied the bandage off.

  
Mitch blinked down at him. "What was that?"

  
What was that expression? Defiant? Annoyed? "My name isn't Spots, it's Jonas."

  
"Ah, nice to officially meet you, Joey."

  
Jonas dropped his face into his hands while Mitch just chuckled.

  
Now that his arm was wrapped, Mitch didn't really have an excuse to stay any longer. Still he lingered in the doorway. "If you need anything, just ask for it and the castle will give it to you, most of the time. And if you get lonely you can always come find me."

  
Jonas kept one hand on the door. It wouldn't have surprised Mitch in the least if he slammed it shut in his face. Instead he used it as a buffer between them. "Keep an eye on your cuts. The bandages need to be changed frequently until it heals."

  
Mitch nodded even though he knew there was about a good a chance of that happening as Jonas flinging himself into Mitch's arms and begging for a wild, passionate night together. Ha. "I guess I'll see you in the morning." He waited for the door to close.

  
Jonas didn't move. "You didn't tell me your name."

  
If Mitch was the one who saved Jonas from the wolves, why was it that he felt he owed this guy something? Maybe he was still just a little scared that Jonas would try to run off on his own in the middle of the night and needed to tell him something to keep him here. Would it matter coming from someone like him? "This story will be a lot scarier to tell your sister if you say 'the Beast' instead of 'Mitch,' you know."

  
Those were definitely tears in Jonas' eyes this time. "You don't know Sidney; she wouldn't be afraid either way."

  
Mitch snorted. "Come on, Joey, think of my pride before you say shit like that." He sucked in a deep breath. "Get some rest. First thing in the morning, I'll get you back to her."

  
He was halfway down the hall before he heard Jonas call out to him.

  
"Mitch!" Jonas hurried after him, wincing a little on his hurt leg. Mitch kept forgetting about that. "Um...if it isn't too much trouble, I wondered if you could help me with something. Else. Besides taking me home, I mean."

  
Mitch raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. What is it?" He was so surprised he forgot to make a dirty joke.

  
Jonas bit his lip. That did other things to Mitch that had nothing to do with emotions. "A place like this is bound to have a library, right? Do you think you could take me?"

  
Mitch groaned. He'd prefer another fight with the wolves. "Of all the things you could have asked for. Okay. Let's go."

  
But honestly? Jonas smiling up at him almost made it all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats*  
> I love love love every comment I get, thank you all!!


	6. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...I'm late. C'est la vie.

The library was just one more thing Jonas had longed for his whole life, now tainted by his current predicament. He couldn't focus on the three entire stories of shelves packed with books that were in better shape than the rest of the castle--excepting perhaps the room he'd be sleeping in--because his eyes constantly flitted to the windows. To the snow so heavy he could barely see beyond it.

  
Someone--the castle--had a small tea cart waiting for them. Jonas nibbled on a pastry. It sat like a rock in his stomach.

  
Not willing to entirely waste such an opportunity, Jonas tried to remember every time he'd wished for a book only to find Mr. Newman's little shop lacking. Even though he'd been there just yesterday, it felt like ages ago. What had he wanted?

  
Finding a book he wanted in the castle's magnificent library might prove more difficult than he imagined. Mr. Newman kept his books in a state of organized chaos; they weren't arranged in a system, but the shopkeeper knew where to find each volume. Jonas only needed to ask. The castle's books seemed to be arranged in some sort of pattern. There were just so many that it was hard for Jonas to see it.

  
"Oh, no."

  
Jonas startled. He'd almost forgotten the beast--Mitch--was in the room with him, lounging in a corner like a lazy house cat. Tapping one paw up and down. Jonas frowned. "What's 'oh no'?"

  
"You have this look on your face that says we're gonna be here all day." Mitch made a face.

  
He sounded so sad about it that Jonas almost laughed. "You don't have to stay with me, you know."

  
Mitch shrugged. "What, and leave you all alone in this big, haunted castle? What kind of asshole do you think I am?"

  
Jonas rolled his eyes. "It's not haunted." He paused, because he didn't really know that, now did he? "If it is haunted I'd rather not know." Magic was one thing; ghosts were something else entirely. Though. If he really thought about, could a ghost be worse than a beast, enchanted objects, and a sentient castle? Maybe it was better if he didn't think about it.

  
"Scared, Joey?" Mitch had a way of talking that made Jonas feel he was being teased. A tone that made the little curl of his lip seem less like a snarl and more like a smile. "You've got nothing to worry about; I'm scarier than anything else around."

  
"You're not that scary." Jonas realized as he said it that he really believed that. He definitely wasn't comfortable, but he wasn't scared anymore either. Not of Mitch. Would he rather be home than trapped in this castle? Of course. Did he still think Mitch would eat him? Not so much. Maybe he'd feel even better about the whole ordeal if Mitch would stop staring at him.

  
Like now. Jonas could feel Mitch's eyes on his back as he scanned the spines of the books, still not sure what he was searching for. The feeling of being watched distracted him. He wasn't really reading the titles so much as he was just looking at the binding. Many were engraved or embossed with little designs and flourishes. One had flowering vines in gold leaf wrapped around the title.

  
"Oh," he said, turning back to Mitch, who at least had the decency to look mildly embarrassed to be caught staring. "Do you know where I can find a book about this castle? A history of the people who lived here or in the town. Or maybe..." He hesitated, feeling ridiculous. "Roses?"

  
"Roses," Mitch repeated. For just a second Jonas had the wild thought that Mitch could see through him. His heart lurched. The smile that spread across Mitch's face did nothing to alleviate Jonas' discomfort. "You know," Mitch drawled, "actually, I think there might be something over here about that."

  
Jonas brightened at the thought that something happened easily for a change. Still unnerved, he looked over the shelves right in front of Mitch's chair but didn't find anything. "Over here? Are you sure?"

  
"Oh, yeah. Bottom shelf."

  
Jonas bent over and searched. His eyes roamed over the titles, not comprehending what he read. "Wait. These are all in...is that Ancient Greek?"

  
"No, further back. Behind those."

  
"Behind...? Why would they be behind?" Frowning, Jonas pushed past the heavy, dusty tomes in front. "The only thing behind them is a wall, I don't..." About this time he heard the snickering. He turned around slowly to glare at Mitch. "Real funny. Haha. So I'm assuming you don't actually know where anything is here."

  
"Fuck no. The only thing I've ever done with a book is have a bonfire."

  
Jonas put his face into his hands and took a deep breath. "Tell me you didn't."

  
"Nah. I planned on it but always got too drunk to find the matches."

  
"Thank goodness." He wandered off towards the other end of the room.

  
"Hey, Joey," Mitch called before he took more than ten steps away.

  
Jonas' emotions fluctuated between apprehension and annoyance. "Yeah?"

  
Mitch pointed a clawed hand to a table next to a lush couch, where a small stack of books waited. Jonas didn't have to ask to realize they hadn't been there before.

  
"Okay. Thanks," he said to the empty air around him as he settled down on the couch. He looked each book over. A thick book about horticulture. A handwritten manual for growing roses. A book of...fairytales? He squinted down at it, sure he'd misread. No, it was definitely fairytales. It was the most worn of the three, and the cover had a deep groove in the front, almost like a claw mark.

  
Mitch had meandered over and now sat on the arm of the couch at the end opposite Jonas. He picked at a fraying tear in his pants. "So, Joey, why the interest in flowers?" He tried too hard to sound disinterested.

  
Jonas traced his finger over the groove. There were also puncture marks in the pages themselves, like someone with sharp claws dug into them with unyielding pressure. A few pages were completely torn. "My, um, mother said that roses haven't grown in these parts for generations, and that it had something to do with a cursed king. And what I'm guessing is this castle." Not a lie, exactly, since learning why roses didn't grow anymore might lead him to some that did.

  
"Yeah, I know that story. My mom told it to me as a kid. A prince was a dick to a witch and got turned into a...beast. And she gave him a rose, and if he couldn't break the curse before the rose died, he wouldn't be able to break it at all." Mitch huffed. Jonas couldn't tell if it was meant to be a laugh or a sound of frustration. "Shit deal, if you ask me, especially since the witch cursed the whole town, too."

  
"What do you mean? What did he have to do to break the curse?"

  
"Everybody just left. Like, the crops died or something so they had to. But then it was just this prince in this castle watching a fucking flower die." Now Mitch was the one who looked uncomfortable. "In my mom's version, he was supposed to get someone to fall in love with him, as..." He clenched his fists. "As he was. Which was impossible, but then with all the people gone, he didn't even have a fucking prayer." He glanced at Jonas and then quickly away. "People don't just come stumbling through the forest looking to...break fucking curses."

  
Jonas clutched the book of fairytales so tightly to his chest that his hands shook. "That's..." He couldn't really understand the idea of cursing someone in the first place, but then rigging it to make it impossible to break? "Cruel."

  
"Yeah," Mitch agreed so quietly Jonas wasn't sure he was meant to hear at all. Mitch's nose wrinkled. Now he was the one staring out the window. His expression swung wildly between fury and sorrow, his fists clenched and shaking. Jonas wanted to unwrap them, to take them in his own hands until they both stopped shaking.

  
"Do you have a rose?"

  
Mitch frowned at him. "What?" Realization dawned on his face a second later, chased by anger. "No." There was a finality to it that made Jonas cringe.

  
"Sorry," he said.

  
Mitch managed a grin, even if to Jonas' eyes it appeared forced. All of the tension from before roiled just beneath the surface. "Don't worry about it, Spots. I wasn't much better looking as a human anyway."

  
Jonas snorted.

  
A little while later, while Jonas tried to read and Mitch wandered restlessly around the room, Jonas found his thoughts were unbearably agitated. He read the same paragraph ten times before finally shutting the book. His mind couldn't absorb the intricacies of ornamental horticulture at the moment. Instead he found his eyes drawn to the window.

  
The snow showed no signs of stopping. He hadn't really expected to be able to leave tonight, but if it kept up like this, tomorrow might not be possible either. He'd already been gone a full day. Sidney...

  
He shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment. Thinking about it would drive him crazy. Outside, darkness set in. Jonas let the bright spots of snow, the shifting shadows, and the hush of evening mesmerize him.

  
But he couldn't stop his thoughts from coming.

  
Was it worse to be cursed, know how to break it, and never have an opportunity? Or to know from the beginning it was permanent? In the end, which was more cruel? He couldn't quite seem to imagine the type of person who ran around cursing people, no matter the reason. Come to think of it, if Mitch was cursed, what had he done to get that way? Probably tricked an enchanter to bend over so he could stare at their ass.

  
No, wait. That only made Jonas feel worse. It couldn't possibly be something that petty.

  
He remembered a time when he and Sidney were children, and Dean caught Jonas reading when he was supposed to be working on chores. Jonas would never forget the way he felt when Dean threw the book into the fire and made Jonas watch as the pages blackened and curled. It still seemed too harsh a punishment to Jonas, though Dean seemed to think it wasn't harsh enough to curb Jonas' laziness.

  
So, he realized with a sinking feeling, someone could probably be cursed for something as inconsequential as reading a book, too. Jonas had the strange thought that he'd rather find out Mitch had done something terrible. Jonas felt a little disgusted at himself for even thinking such a thing.

  
He was starting to give himself a headache. All the swirling thoughts--of curses, witches, roses, Sidney, wolves, snow--beat against the inside of his skull. He lay his head on the arm of the couch and willed his mind to be quiet.

  
"Joey? You okay?" Mitch leaned over him, looking concerned.

  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, even though what he wanted to say was, _how did you get cursed_ , or, _what did you do that was so bad that you have no way to break it?_

  
"You sure? 'Cause I can always carry you to bed, if you want."

  
_I wish you'd stop teasing me like that_ , he thought, just as he said, "Only if it won't hurt your arm."

  
Even though he'd offered, Mitch looked surprised. Maybe a little pleased. He scooped Jonas up effortlessly, one arm under his back and the other a little uncomfortably close to his ass.

  
It had been a rough day and Jonas needed human contact, even if it came from someone slightly less than human. He needed not to have to hobble the long walk back to the queen's chambers. He also needed to pretend not to notice that the castle seemed to make the walk longer than before or that Mitch was in no hurry or that Jonas didn't really mind either of those things.

  
He buried his aching head into Mitch's shoulder and pretended not to notice when Mitch's grip tightened around him. The way the gesture sent a flickering heat unfurling in his stomach.

  
Some things it was better to just not think about.

* * *

 

Even though he could tell the kid didn't feel well, Mitch had the selfish urge to beg Jonas not to go to sleep quite yet. Or at least to let him stay in the room with him. And what, watch him sleep like some kind of fucking creep? He rolled his eyes at himself.

  
There was just something about Jonas that drew Mitch in, like a thrumming pulse he knew was there even when Jonas was reading and ignoring him completely. He felt like slapping himself. Clearly he'd been alone too long, Javier, Scratch, and Cliff notwithstanding. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that that wasn't the whole truth. That he'd feel something for Jonas regardless of the circumstances. That it was even more than a pretty face and cute ass.

  
He growled at himself, but Jonas was too distracted to notice.

  
He didn't ask to stay, but he did sit on the edge of the bed, watching from the corner of his eye as Jonas settled in. Maybe he could sleep curled up at the foot of the bed like a dog.

  
"Okay," he said, bolting to his feet before he said something stupid. Jonas watched him with bleary eyes. "I'll be...around if you need anything."

  
"I'll just ask the castle how to find you." Jonas smiled, a small, tired little smile that made Mitch feel wobbly and pathetic.

  
He laughed. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to pull himself back together. It was no good. "Well, goodnight, Spots." He was out the door before he could hear Jonas' response.

  
He leaned back against the door and groaned. What the actual hell was he doing? He'd seen a cute boy before. Maybe not as cute as this one, but regardless, he'd never felt anything like this before. No one had ever made him feel like such a goddamn mess. Talk about bad fucking timing. Maybe if they'd met before...

  
He pushed off from the door. He needed to get out of the castle. Clear his head. Stop imagining things that were never going to happen. Never would have happened, even before the curse. Not for him.

  
Every bit of it pissed him off. He was being such a fucking idiot. Every step he took away from Jonas reminded him of that fact. Whatever he'd been feeling faded away and was replaced with something dark and twisting. He burst out of the castle doors and disappeared into the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonas is a sleepy boy. Shh...he had a hard day. Tomorrow will be...better.......?  
> Thanks for reading, liking, and commenting <3


	7. Deer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm nothing if not consistent with my updating day blahblahblah." Why do I lie to myself like this T-T  
> As always, LE and all its wonder belong to MARS

Jonas thought, considering how tired he was and how quickly he'd fallen asleep, that he should have slept soundly. The bed proved just as comfortable as Mitch promised, as soft as it was cozy. Yet Jonas slept fitfully. He tossed and turned so much that the blankets twisted around him in a tangled cocoon, so tight he couldn't move his legs. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep, exactly. He could have handled that, gone back to the library and continued reading. Instead he found himself unable to escape his dreams, bursting awake for a few brief seconds only to be pulled down again, like a drowning man dragged away by a swift current. No matter how hard he fought he couldn't stop it. He would rather be completely sleepless.

  
Finally he managed to claw his way to consciousness. Gasping hard enough that it seemed he really had been drowning. He kicked and struggled his way out of the mess of sheets, then lay there, panting, until the memory of the last dream faded. He couldn't stand being in bed another minute.

  
The touch of the icy floor on his feet brought him back to reality a little more, so he stepped over to the window and pressed his face against the cold glass. A thin layer of sweat dried on his skin. He knew it was probably a quick way to catch a chill but couldn't quite bring himself care. He was too unsettled. He didn't even remember what he'd dreamt, really, just flashes of teeth and blood and thorns. A shiver wracked his body, as much from cold as his unsettledness.

  
The snow stopped falling. It was piled high on the ground but at least if it didn't start falling again, they could manage to trudge through it. Jonas sighed, watching his breath fog the pane of glass. Instead of excitement he felt a churning in his gut and the need to move.

  
He was out the bedroom door and down the hall before he even stopped to consider what he was doing. He just needed to be out of the room. Maybe he'd go to the library. Or--

  
"Hey, where are you going?"

  
Jonas swung around, ignoring the way his stomach did a somersault. The hall was illuminated by a soft glow emanating from the candelabrum--wasn't her name Scratch? She bounced as she walked, making the light of her candles cast dizzying shadows around the hall. It was now bright enough for Jonas to see Javier waddle towards him. They'd just come up from the stairwell.

  
Jonas stood there for a moment feeling slightly dazed and strangely disappointed: he'd thought for a moment it was Mitch calling out to him.

  
Javier and Scratch looked up at him expectantly and he realized one of them had asked him a question. As he wondered if it would seem condescending for him to bend over to talk to the objects, Javier twisted his face into an inquisitive expression. If a clock could look inquisitive. "You alright, little bro?" he asked. "You look a little sick."

  
Jonas did his best to smile. When that didn't work he settled for shrugging. "Just couldn't sleep. I thought I'd...I'd go find Mitch," he added quietly. Mitch had said to find him if he needed anything, after all. Company might be nice. Unless he was asleep by now. Wait, what time was it anyway? It was hard to tell within the walls of the castle, and the snow always made nighttime deceptively bright. It could have been midnight or close to morning. He glanced at Javier, trying to read the time.

Even if the time was accurate he couldn't read it past the strange face paint Javier wore. Javier caught him looking and swished the hands of his clock-face. Jonas looked quickly away, flushed with embarrassment.

  
"That's probably not the best idea right now, kid." Javier waved a stubby little arm. "Stick with us. We'll keep you out of trouble."

  
Considering the state of the castle--not to mention the talk of bonfires in libraries--Jonas wasn't sure they had the same idea of what "out of trouble" meant.

  
Scratch jumped up and down. The sharp click of her tiny metallic feet made Jonas wince. "Oh oh oh, you can help us find Cliff!" she screeched. "But no asking the castle for help; that's cheating." She ran off cackling without waiting for an answer. When she was out of sight, Jonas and Javier were plunged back into the grim darkness of the unlit hallway. Even with the light from a high window, Jonas ran his hand along the wall to guide his way forward.

  
"It's more fun than it sounds," Javier said, sounding mildly embarrassed. Jonas smiled even though there was no way Javier would see it. He realized he had no idea how long any of them had been in the castle. He was sure it wasn't easy to constantly invent new ways to stave off boredom.

  
Jonas matched his pace to Javier, who seemed strangely intent on making sure he followed. Once his eyes adjusted back to the dark, Jonas could just make out the glass pane of the clock face turning back to look at him a few times to check if he was still there. It seemed a bit...suspicious. Though he figured he didn't have much choice but to follow along. Maybe he could even get a few of his questions answered; Javier might know something Mitch didn't.

  
"Actually," he said, "do you think you could answer a few questions I have? About this place?"

  
Javier hesitated but eventually agreed.

  
Jonas took a moment to collect his thoughts. There was a lot he wanted to know. And, he realized with a start, most of it concerned Mitch. That was an...uncomfortable realization.

  
Now Jonas hesitated. The question he most wanted to ask suddenly seemed rude. Especially if his suspicions proved correct.

  
Javier sighed and said, "Look, I can take a good guess about what you want to ask, so just go ahead and get it over with. I already said I don't mind."

  
Jonas stared down at his feet. They passed another window so it was briefly bright enough that he could actually see around him. In the total darkness he could almost forget he was talking to a clock. The light was unforgiving. "H-How did you end up...like this?"

  
Javier shrugged. "Got cursed. Scratch, Cliff, and I were fucking around one day. We painted the ass of a horse that belonged to this kid, Peter something-or-other, to look like a girl's face, put a veil over it, and told him to pucker up and kiss his bride." He laughed at the memory, a disconcertingly deep sound to come from such a little clock. So, they had all been human at one point. Jonas felt a pang of sympathy. Javier continued, "The next day, we woke up here. Like this." The same tightness crept into his voice that Mitch had whenever he talked about this stuff.

  
Jonas stopped. Ahead of them, Scratch darted from room to room, hollering for Cliff to come out "or else". Javier peered up at Jonas, who shook his head in mounting distress. "Wait, what? You mean you didn't know when it happened? Who did it?"

  
"I have my suspicions, and I think Mitch knows, but he doesn't seem to wanna share." Javier sounded more bitter than angry.

  
Jonas swallowed thickly. "So you think it happened because of...a prank?" Sure, it sounded like they'd been jerks to that Peter kid. And if Jonas' own experiences were any indication, the incident with the horse's ass wasn't the first. Did that warrant turning people into objects? Sending them away from their homes and families? Hell, he hadn't even thought about that until now. Did Mitch have someone waiting for him to come home, the way Sidney was waiting for him?

  
Javier held up both hands as if to ward off a blow. "Woah, dude, are you crying?"

  
Jonas swiped at his eyes, where tears brimmed but didn't yet fall. "Can you take me to Mitch, please?"

  
Javier shook his head, which in turn shook his entire body in the most definite "no" Jonas had ever seen. "Not tonight. We can take you first thing in the morning. You--"

  
It didn't matter what he said next. Jonas wasn't asking him. The castle opened a door to their right and Jonas slipped through, making sure to shut it behind him, cutting off the sound of Javier shouting after him.

  
If it wouldn't further injure his leg Jonas might have run. He wanted to see Mitch. It was a feeling he couldn't really explain. Whatever it was welled up inside him like desperation. It stuck to his ribs and made him want to sob. Clearly whatever he'd dreamed still muddled his head. He was behaving irrationally.

  
That didn't change the fact that he needed to see Mitch.

  
Jonas didn't know if a castle could sense or care about his urgency, but it seemed to take him through the shortest route. At least, he only passed through one more door before coming to a heavy set of double doors. His vision still shivered with unshed tears, but he was pretty sure he'd never been to this part of the castle before. If he was in a normal castle and his sense of direction could be trusted, Jonas would guess he was somewhere in the West wing.

  
If he hadn't been in such a hurry, he might have noticed the blood on the floor, the sounds coming from behind the doors as he pushed one open.

  
The glow of the moon reflecting off the snow filled the room with a soft, persistent light, filling corners that otherwise might have been cast in shadow. Jonas knew immediately--even past the strange ache in his chest and the deep need he felt to see Mitch, right then--that something was off. He noticed the things he should have sooner. The streaks of blood on the floor. The smell of it thick in the air. The crunching, cracking noises echoing around him. The hunched shadow in the corner.

  
Some part of his brain knew it was Mitch. That same helpful little part of Jonas suggested he leave the room. Quietly.

  
He backed away. The door, which was still opened only just wide enough for him to slip through, turned out to be one step closer than he thought. He bumped against the open edge. It slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud.

  
Mitch whipped his head around so quickly that Jonas thought he heard his neck pop. Mitch was down on all fours, crouched over what remained of a deer carcass, shredded almost beyond recognition. A sticky pool of blood seeped slowly outward across the stone floor. He'd removed his cape so Jonas had a clear view of his tail dragging across the mess.

  
Mitch was covered in blood, too. It dripped from the fur around his mouth, which hung open in surprise and showcased stained teeth.

  
Jonas couldn't move. What he felt wasn't fear so much as shock. A distant part of him wondered if that was the wrong reaction. He silenced it immediately. Either way it rooted him to the spot, not able to take his eyes off Mitch. Because Jonas might not be afraid but it was clear Mitch was. He stared back at Jonas, wide-eyed and unmoving. It wrenched Jonas' heart. At last he cried.

  
Mitch's face was drawn with horror. He stood, stumbled away from the deer, and, keeping his back to Jonas, said, "Get out."

  
His words seemed to release Jonas from his own stupor. "W-what?" he stuttered. "Mitch--"

  
"GET. OUT."

  
Jonas felt the shouts all the way to his bones. He didn't know what else to do. He practically fell out the door. It was barely shut behind him when he heard a crash inside, followed by a howl. Not an animal sound: it was the sound of a human in inhuman pain.

  
Jonas sank to floor against the wall. A sob ripped through his chest. He didn't know what to do. He'd messed up and didn't know what to do. He hadn't meant--hadn't wanted-- He dragged his hands through his hair.

  
He heard a few more crashes before the room within fell silent. Mitch must have run out of furniture to smash. For a while after that Jonas just let himself cry. Once he started it was difficult to stop. By the end he wasn't entirely sure why he was crying anymore, over things he didn't understand.

  
He still sat there long after he'd calmed down. He'd seen something Mitch clearly didn't want him to see. Because he thought Jonas would be afraid? That made sense. And then to have just run away without saying anything--while crying--must have made Mitch think he was right. How could Jonas possibly explain to him that that wasn't the case when he didn't understand it himself? No matter how much he thought about it he still didn't know what he'd do or say; all he knew was that he wanted to be there when Mitch finally emerged.

  
It was hard to tell how long he sat there. Long enough that his butt went numb. He paced around for a while. Sat back down. Paced some more. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened.

  
Jonas thought of a dozen things to say while he waited. He couldn't remember a single one. They just stared at each other in silence, Mitch clearly surprised to see Jonas sitting there.

  
Mitch looked away and kept his gaze on the floor. Jonas expected him to look angry. He didn't; he looked sad. Which was so much worse.

  
To Jonas' shame, it was Mitch who broke the silence. "Come on, Spots. The snow stopped. It's time to get you home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they ever get out of this castle? Will they ever get out of this snow??  
> ((Spoilers: Maybe.))  
> Also, I know I haven't been replying to comments recently, but I read them all and talk my poor beta reader's ear off about them. I'll go back and reply ASAP.


	8. Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long Exposure belongs to MARS.

The longer they passed in silence, the harder Jonas found it to think of the right thing to say. Anything to say. At first he'd wanted it to be the exact right thing. The further they got from the castle, the more he would have settled for saying anything, right or otherwise. The words felt stuck in his throat. Much longer and he would choke on them.

  
Mitch led the way silently through the snow.

  
_Make a stupid remark_ , Jonas thought. _Say something inappropriate._ He selfishly wanted to go back to whatever thing they'd been doing before.

  
On top of everything Jonas was extremely disoriented. He'd been in the castle for two days, but it felt like it had been weeks.

Now they passed back through the abandoned town towards the forest where Mitch had saved him. The snow changed the landscape of the world. It gave him the eerie feeling that he'd fallen asleep somewhere and woken up in an entirely different universe.

  
Since he couldn't think of anything to say, Jonas focused on guiding Bud up the steep hill. At least this time they took a winding path up the ravine. He'd tried to figure out where exactly they'd fallen on their way in.

  
Moving through the forest took longer than he expected. He tried to follow as closely in Mitch's footsteps as he could, but the snow hid roots and branches and holes that tripped Bud if they tried anything more than a slow amble. The only words either of them spoke were when Mitch stumbled and muttered a slew of curses barely under his breath. The only bright side to it was that Jonas was so focused on not falling that he had no time to worry about wolves.

  
Mitch had his cloak back on and was clean of all the blood from last night. But the bandage Jonas fixed for him was missing. Jonas couldn't remember if he'd seen it on last night, or if Mitch had removed it because it had been too stained. He should have offered to fix another one.

  
He should have done a lot of things.

* * *

Just underneath the surface, Mitch was seething. He was pissed at himself. He hadn't been careful enough and Jonas--wide-eyed, sweet Jonas--had seen him at his worst. Mitch was disgusted with himself, and he knew Jonas must be, too. Disgusted by and probably scared of Mitch all over again. How could he not be? Just when he'd started to seem comfortable. And it wasn't like Mitch could tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, that he wasn't going to turn around an hurt Jonas. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

  
What the fuck difference did that make? He growled softly to himself. He felt like tearing through the forest. Punching a fucking tree. He almost wanted the wolves to come just so he'd have something to take his anger out on.

  
He didn't want it badly enough to see Jonas in danger again.

  
He tried to pick the clearest path forwards. If he was alone, he could have made the journey there and back again in the time it had taken them to get little more than halfway. Jonas' horse picked his footing careful. Which was probably good. The thing may have looked mangey and dopey as hell but it seemed to care about the welfare of its rider. Though at the moment its slow pace made Mitch want to kick it in the ass.

  
Mitch took care not to look directly at Jonas. He couldn't bare to see what Jonas might be thinking. And even though he desperately wanted to break the silence between them--to spend the last bit of time they had together talking about anything if just to memorize Jonas' voice--another part of him was glad for it. If he didn't speak, he couldn't say something to make things worse.

  
The few times he felt brave enough to glance back, mostly to make sure Jonas was alright, he saw that Joey looked just as miserable as he felt. Jonas kept his eyes on the ground, trying to guide the horse out of the way of branches and other obstacles.

  
Mitch's paw snagged on something under the snow. "Fucking shit," he hissed, stumbling forward. Not that they could see a goddamn thing under all the fucking snow. There was less in the forest but still enough to make this whole enterprise harder than it already was. "Fuck," he said again for good measure.

  
Maybe Jonas hadn't noticed. Mitch looked back, quickly. Jonas still wasn't looking at him, but he was...smiling? Just a little. Just enough to make Mitch burn inside and out.

  
He kept his head down, plowing ahead. The sooner he got Jonas home, the better. For Jonas, at least. At this point, that was the best Mitch could hope for.

* * *

 

It took most of the day to get through the forest. The closer they got to home, the more Jonas felt an odd sense of loss. He needed to fix this thing with Mitch. He couldn't just leave it as it was. And what then? He'd just never see Mitch again? The thought made him feel vaguely ill.

  
"Mitch," he called. He still had no idea what he'd say. He hadn't spoken in so long that his voice croaked.

  
He was actually a little surprised when Mitch stopped and faced him. "Everything okay back there?"

  
Oh, god. Mitch sounded worried, about him. Since he hadn't actually planned anything to say, Jonas just sat there with his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

  
Mitch raised an eyebrow. "We're almost there, so just hang on a little while longer, okay?" He looked like he wanted to say more, too.

  
Jonas just nodded. He felt like he might cry again. _Because that's what would help this situation._ He snorted at himself.

  
Mitch was right about it not being much further. They stopped as they reached the edge of the forest. He kept himself hidden in the shadows and even drew the hood of his cloak over his face. Jonas pulled up short beside him.

  
They stood on a small hill. Below them at a distance was the town. Bud took a few steps down the hill before Jonas pulled him short. He turned around in the saddle and saw Mitch's back retreating back through the trees, already far away, like he was in a hurry.

  
With one last glance at the town, Jonas urged Bud into a trot.

* * *

 

Mitch froze. Jonas and his horse barreled back through the forest towards him. Something couldn't possibly have gone wrong that quickly, could it? He hurried back to meet them.

  
"What is it?" he said when Jonas was close enough to hear. There was a worried look on Jonas' face. Shit. Mitch's heart thudded.

  
"Yeah. Um." Jonas hesitated. "Where are we?"

  
Mitch blinked dumbly up at him. He was close enough now that he could count each freckle on Jonas' face if he wanted. Scratch that: if he had time. If he could count that high.

  
Jonas was staring at him, reminding Mitch that he had a question to answer. "Uh, Peach Creek..."

  
Why was Jonas shaking his head? "I live in Sellwood."

  
"Oh." Mitch frowned while that sank in. "Oh, fuck me."

  
"Where are you going?" Jonas called after him as he marched away.

  
He didn't go far before randomly selecting a tree and punching the living fuck out of it. Though of course the tree was tougher than he was; he felt his knuckles split and the jarring force of impact made his wolf wounds sting. "FUCK," he howled, more from frustration than pain.

  
"Mitch!" Jonas called again, clearly alarmed.

  
Mitch really wanted to hit himself. God, he was a fucking idiot. It never even occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, Jonas wasn't from the same town he was. That there might be more than one fucking town beyond the forest.

  
"Goddammit." He ran his uninjured hand over his face and through his hair, groaning.

  
"Mitch." Jonas was closer now. He and the horse were both watching him curiously.

  
Mitch had never heard of Sellwood. Which meant they'd have to go all the way back to the castle to check a fucking map. Unless... "Joey. Can you go down into town and find out how to get to your town? Maybe...we might not be too far off." He hated that he'd have to send Jonas alone to fix something that he'd fucked up, but he couldn't very well go into town himself. "Fuck," he muttered for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

  
"I can do that. It's not a problem." Jonas tried to reassure him but was clearly still worried. He was watching Mitch carefully, his eyebrows drawn together. "You--you'll be here when I get back, right?"

  
Mitch wanted to smooth the lines off Jonas' face. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking like that. "Yeah, I'll be right here," he said, his hands clenched at his sides to restrain himself from brushing Jonas' leg, from making some sort of contact.

  
He hated how unsure Jonas still looked, but eventually he nodded and set off towards town. Mitch watched him until he disappeared from view between the buildings.

* * *

 

Jonas couldn't say why he was nervous, exactly. It wasn't like he'd never been to another town before. Well, he hadn't been often. Just a few trips to a neighboring village or two when Dean or Sue needed something that couldn't be found in Sellwood, or if they had goods to sell that would fetch a higher price elsewhere. None of those little villages had been nearly this big.

  
Actually, Jonas was a little surprised by the size of it. It was more like a city than a town. There was an unfamiliar, wet smell in the air and the sound of people everywhere bustling about their day.

  
He came through the back side of town. If he wanted information, it would probably look less suspicious to find the market and ask someone there. Finding it posed more of a problem than he anticipated. While Sellwood was so small that it mostly consisted of one road leading in and out of town, this place reminded Jonas of a web. He found himself scooting through an alley so narrow he thought he'd have to dismount to squeeze through. His legs brushed the sides as it was. Then he had to decide which way to go.

  
Apparently he chose wrong. Instead of getting closer to the noise he only seemed to move further away, but every time he thought he'd corrected the mistake he only ended up making it worse. He seemed to be moving towards houses. Okay. He could work with that. He'd just...knock on someone's door and ask. Or he'd get lucky and run into someone.

  
Bud, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself, snuffling happily at all the new horsie smells. So at least Jonas didn't have to worry about him, too. Maybe he could find some carrots or something to treat him with.

  
A couple of children ran between the houses. Jonas followed them, figuring where there were children, there must be adults somewhere.

  
Eventually he came to a place where the streets widened and the houses were more spaced out and a few people milled about, doing their daily chores. Some looked up curiously as he passed but turned away when they saw he wasn't particularly interesting. One old man glared at him until he trotted away. In the distance, at the end of the row of houses, a girl about his age stood sweeping snow off the walkway in front of her house. He could deal with that, he thought.

  
"Pardon me," he said as he pulled up a little distance away, not wanting to spook her.

  
The girl didn't stop sweeping as she glanced up at him, her expression rather hard. As her eyes landed on him her expression shifted. It was a brightening of her eyes, though her mouth remained turned down in a frown. "Can I help you?" she said, hands still gripping her broom though her sweeping slowed.

  
Jonas tried to smile, though it was hard when she was practically glaring at him. So much for thinking someone younger might be friendlier. "Actually, I wondered if you knew how to get to Sellwood from here? I-I think I might be a little lost." He laughed, not having to fake his unease.

  
The girl glanced him over once before leaning her broom against the doorway. "My father might have a map. Give me a minute and I'll check." She ducked inside, slamming the door behind her.

  
Jonas half suspected she wouldn't come back at all. Just as he scanned the streets for anyone else he might ask, the door opened and the girl returned, map in hand. She started to hand it to him and paused. "You can read, can't you?" She sounded doubtful.

  
When Jonas nodded she handed it over. It was a local map, showing trade routes with neighboring cities and towns. On the very edge, in font so small it seemed like an afterthought, was Sellwood. The two towns were connected by a long, thin line spanning almost the entire length of the map, skirting the edge of the forest.

  
Apparently spotting his dismay, the girl nodded. "It will take you at least an entire day to make that journey." She squinted at Bud. "Definitely a day. Better to find a place to stay the night and start again in the morning. If you need a suggestion for an inn, I'd be happy to point something out. There are some parts of this town it's better to avoid." She cast her eyes toward what must have been the edge of the city and curled her lip.

  
Jonas shifted in his saddle, suddenly uncomfortable. He studied the map for a moment longer. "It would be faster to go through the forest..." He managed to catch himself before saying, again.

  
The girl shook her head. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you," she said, her voice dropping to a low menace. Like she was trying to make him a conspirator in something unpleasant. "It's full of wolves. And all other manner of dangerous beast."

  
The way she hissed the word-- _beast_ \--sent a shiver down Jonas' spine. He felt his smile falter, and he tried to cover it by quickly handing her back the map. "Thank you so much for your help, Miss--"

  
"Madison," she interrupted. "Madison Cleary." She shrugged. "If you change your mind about the inn, let me know."  
"I-it was nice to meet you, Madison." Jonas pulled Bud around. He'd meant to ask for the easiest way out of town but forgot in his hurry to leave. __ __

* * *

 

Jonas had been gone too long. Nothing could have happened to him, right? It was just a short trip to ask for directions. Less than half an hour had passed. Mitch snorted. So much trouble could happen in a half hour in this town. He should know; he used to be the one starting it.

  
The sound of hoofbeats caught his attention. A knot of tension unraveled inside of him when he saw Jonas loping up the hill on his horse. For a moment, Mitch almost forgot his curse, and he almost ran out into the open to meet him.

  
"What took so fucking long?" He winced at his tone, which came out harsh in his excitement.

  
Jonas frowned down at him. "I got turned around," he mumbled. "It's not like I've ever been in a town like this, you know." There was something else, a worry nagging just under the surface of his face.

  
Mitch felt a pang of guilt. If he'd been human still, he could have taken Jonas through himself. Shown him some of his gang's old haunts, some of the places they used to fuck shit up.

  
He could have taken Jonas to see his mother.

  
The unexpected thought sent a jolt of pain through him, so strong he felt it like a physical blow.

  
"Mitch?" Jonas' voice dripped concern. It was so soft that Mitch indulged himself, just for a second, and closed his eyes. He let the sweetness of it wrap around him and ease that pain, if only a little.

  
Then the moment was over and he twisted his face up into a grin. "So, Spots, break it to me. How much further do we got to walk today?"

  
Jonas sighed. The most world-weary sigh Mitch thought he'd ever heard. It was so dramatic he had to bite back a snicker. Of course he failed at that, too, and Jonas looked glared down at him. "A long, long way," he informed Mitch in a clipped tone.

"It's probably going to take--"

  
"Hey," Mitch interrupted. He leaned in as close as he dared. "Want to go do something fun?"

  
Jonas blinked owlishly, confused at the sudden change of course. "But...don't we need to get going?"

  
If Mitch had to let Jonas go, fine. But he'd be damned if the last memory Jonas had of him was the night before. Or a long, painfully boring walk. He pushed all the awkwardness and sadness aside and let the excitement bubble up to the top. "C'mon, Joey. I promise I'll show you a good time." He waggled his eyebrows.

  
Jonas sighed again, though his mouth betrayed him as the corners curled up into the tiniest of smiles. "Okay," he agreed. "I'm up for it if you are."

  
It felt like an agreement to put whatever else had happened aside and just enjoy this moment. As he led the way once again, Mitch felt cautiously happy.

  
Not even _he_ could fuck up what he had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking that this is about halfway? Possibly more than halfway if I change my mind about one little thing. (Which makes me a little sad because this has been so, so much fun) We shall see!


	9. Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever sit back and wonder how different your life would have been if you had never found a certain show or book or webcomic that you not only love but which has had a real and noticeable impact on your existence? And the thought that if you hadn't been looking where you were looking at exactly the right moment you might have missed it, and that thought's a little terrifying?  
> I feel that way about Long Exposure a lot.  
> (This is my really weird way of saying thank you, Mars for...everything.)

"So? What do you think?"

  
Jonas gaped. They stood on the crest of a cliff, and he was looking out at the ocean. The actual freaking ocean. The smell of it in the air was unlike anything he'd ever experienced: thick and briny and oddly welcoming. Jonas found himself drawing in deep breaths, greedy to fill his lungs with it. Heavy clouds loomed in the distance, but for now the sun shone brightly. It glittered off the water and the snow clinging to the rocks and stung his eyes. He couldn't look away.

  
Mitch watched him expectantly. One fang snagged his lower lip, giving him a crooked little smile. "I take it you like it?" He sounded nervous, as though there was any way possible Jonas could be disappointed by seeing the ocean.

  
Jonas nodded. "Can we go closer?"

  
"Sure thing, Spots. Better leave him here, though. We don't want you two slipping and falling off anymore cliffs, now do we?" He winked, and Jonas was so excited that he just grinned back.

  
He slid carefully from Bud's back. The good thing about spending so much time on horseback was that it had given his leg plenty of time to rest, so while it was stiff it no longer caused him more than annoyance. With a pat to the neck, he told the horse, "Stay here," dropped the reins, and walked away. Mitch raised an eyebrow. Jonas shrugged. "Trust me, he won't go anywhere." Bud would be perfectly happy to settle down to a nice patch of grass.

  
"No one ever seems to come here," Mitch told Jonas as they picked their way down the steep incline towards the water. "The piers and shit are on the opposite side of town. So we've got the place all to ourselves."

  
He was being rather cavalier about everything, which, combined with traveling to a new town and now seeing the ocean, gave Jonas the eerie feeling that once again he'd been dropped into a whole new world without warning. It reminded him of the rooms at the castle: like he'd stepped through a door he expected to lead him outside and instead found himself in the basement.

  
Rocks slid out from under his feet and he toppled forward. Mitch's arm was around him in a flash, steadying him, then gone just as quickly.

  
Mitch could act as carefree as he wanted; Jonas could tell it was a front and that he still felt bad about last night. Was he pretending everything was okay for Jonas' sake? That was...unacceptable. He shouldn't feel bad because he hadn't done anything wrong.

  
Why was it Jonas couldn't manage to simply tell him that?

  
"Thanks," he said instead. If Mitch wanted to push past the awkwardness, Jonas would try to do the same for now. There'd be a time for reconciliation later. Right now he wanted to give in to excitement. "So, how is it that you know about this place anyway?"

  
Mitch offered a hand to Jonas to help him down onto the beach. Again he jerked away quickly, like Jonas' touch burned him. Something about that irked him. Mitch said, "I used to live here."

  
Jonas was only surprised for a moment. It made sense, in some strange way. He could see Mitch watching him from the corner of his eye, waiting for Jonas to ask the inevitable follow-up questions. Instead, Jonas said, "Okay. You wanted to have some fun. Let's have fun." He motioned for Mitch to lead the way.

  
Mitch smirked. "I guess it's too cold to get in the water, so I'll have to come up with something else."

  
Jonas snorted. Only Mitch would bring him all the way down to the water promising fun without actually having anything planned. "I'd actually like to at least feel it. When am I ever going to have a chance like this again?"

  
He picked his way carefully over the rocks towards the water. The sound of the waves rolling in was hypnotic. A very compelling part of Jonas wanted to throw himself into the water, cold be damned. Mitch joined him at the edge of the beach and they stood there, watching the water.

  
"You know," Mitch said, his voice low in a way that sent a shiver up Jonas spine, "I actually was hoping the clouds would clear up a little and we could see the sunset. A sunset on the ocean is...something."

  
Jonas flushed. "That sounds..." He cut himself off. He'd been about to say that that sounded romantic. What worried him was the fact that it was Mitch's voice, low and deep, that made it feel that way.To hide his blush he squatted down, let the water wash over his hands as it drew towards them, stopping right at their feet before retreating again. As expected, it was freezing.

  
A shove against his back sent him sprawling forward with a cry of surprise. He landed on his hands and knees, unharmed but soaked in freezing, brackish water. The cold stole his breath. He scrambled back while Mitch doubled over laughing.

  
"Y-you jerk," he said between chattering teeth.

  
"Jesus fucking Christ you should see your face, Spots."

  
Jonas braved the frigid water, scooped up an armful, and hurled it at Mitch, whose guffaws turned to sputters. Jonas laughed. "And you should see yours."

  
A small flicker of worry in the farthest corners of his mind came back when Mitch pounced on him, but dissipated just as quickly when Mitch easily let Jonas roll him onto his back. Also, it was hard to be too intimidated when Mitch's fur was soaked, dripping cold water as they rolled once again so that Mitch loomed again over Jonas, laughing triumphantly. He held Jonas' hands at his side.

  
Jonas snickered. "Now what, smart ass?"

  
Mitch let him go and sat back on his heels. "Dunno. Didn't think that far ahead."

  
Jonas shoved him playfully. He was freezing, the slight breeze coming off the ocean feeling more like a hurricane against his wet clothes. Even so, he felt a sense of happiness wash over him. He hadn't felt that way in...too long. He brushed his wet curls off his face. "If I had any money, I'd say we should just get a room at an inn." He glanced at Mitch, who was grinning his most sleazy grin yet. Jonas couldn't help giggling despite himself. "Oh, no. What?"

  
Mitch leaned forward until their faces were just inches apart. Jonas' heart stalled, but he didn't move away. "How do you feel about turning to a life of crime, Spots?"

* * *

 

Mitch could feel Jonas shaking. They had to sit around and wait for night before they could go into town without risking someone seeing Mitch, and even in all that time they were still wet. The damp sea air and the cold made it impossible to dry off, and starting a fire seemed like the quickest way to draw attention to themselves. Somehow he still enjoyed himself, soaking wet, sitting on the beach with Jonas. Even if they were both shivering and the sunset was hidden behind a thick layer of approaching clouds.

  
He couldn't help sneaking glances at Jonas, soaking in the way he looked, happy staring out at the waves even if he was damp and miserable. And when he'd caught Mitch staring, the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

  
Getting rid of the horse had been the easy part: once night came they just opened up one of the corrals that belonged to Cliff's family and shoved it in.

  
"Isn't a strange horse something people will notice?" Jonas whispered as they crept away.

  
Mitch laughed quietly. "You haven't spent enough time around Cliff." He paused. "No, scratch that. You probably have. All you need to know is that they wouldn't notice if we dropped a herd of horses in there." With the other things they grew on their farm, it would take a lot more than one horse to make them notice something was off. They hid the saddle in the bushes at the edge of the forest and made their way into town.

  
Mitch put all his focus on Jonas to keep from searching the rows of houses for his mother's home. "You see, Spots," he whispered, "the key to doing anything bad is to do it with confidence. Pretend you're exactly where you're meant to be and nobody asks any questions."

  
Jonas looked skeptical. "Really? I kind of thought you just barreled in, consequences be damned."

  
Mitch laughed.

  
Jonas kept his arms hugged around himself. Mitch wanted to grab him and warm him up. There were many, many things he could think to do to warm them both up. Even just hugging Jonas against him seemed to risky.

  
He didn't care much about getting caught, really. The people in this part of town kept their noses in their own business, so seeing two men walking arm in arm wouldn't be worth their notice. What Mitch worried about was Jonas. And last night, and what Jonas thought about him now. Even if his behavior on the beach made Mitch more hopeful than he had any right to be. Wrestling was one thing, and Jonas had technically started that.

  
Besides, Mitch was aware that he probably smelled like a wet dog.

  
They passed through the poor section of town and into the nicer area. Right on the border between the two was an inn. "Alright, Joey, here we are."

  
Jonas shivered. "What now? Break in a window?"

  
Mitch peered carefully into the front window and grinned. Checking one last time to make sure his cloak covered him as much as it could, he pushed open the front door, ignoring Jonas' startled protest. He grabbed Jonas' arm and dragged him inside, quickly shutting the door behind them.

  
"No one's here," Jonas whispered, quiet even though the place was, as he noted, entirely empty.

  
"Yeah, winters are slow in this town, and this is the worst inn in the whole fucking place. So if he doesn't have customers, the innkeeper ducks out and heads to the tavern." He leaned across the counter and swiped a key, which hung out in the open on a hook. Moron. He dangled it in front of Jonas' face. Jonas looked back at him with equal parts dismay and awe.

  
"Won't he notice the key is missing when he gets back?"

  
"Are you fucking kidding me? He'll be so wasted he won't notice he's already pissed himself twice." They traipsed up the stairs and found the room. Mitch unlocked it and swung open the door. He bowed. "After you. There weren't any other keys missing which means we've got the whole fucking place to ourselves. I can even sneak down to the kitchen and get you something to eat, if you want." The thought of food turned Mitch's stomach, but Jonas hadn't eaten all day and was probably hungry.

  
He looked conflicted. "Staying in the room is one thing, since no one else is here anyway. But taking food?"

  
Mitch waved him off. "Get a fire going and start getting warm. I'll be back in a minute." He ducked out the door before Jonas could protest.

  
By the time he got back, Jonas was huddled around a fire, stripped of everything but his thin underclothes, which clung to his body and--

  
Mitch jerked his head away. He cleared his throat. "All they had was a loaf of stale bread. Sorry." He kept his head turned as Jonas took the bread from him.

  
"That's more than enough. Thanks." A long pause. "Are you...not going to eat any?"

  
Mitch laughed him off. "Nah, I'm not...not hungry." He laughed again, a dry sound that made his throat hurt.

  
Thankfully Jonas didn't push it. Mitch went over to the window, for something to do mostly. He pulled off his own damp cloak but kept on his pants. He didn't have on anything underneath them and didn't think Jonas would appreciate him being totally naked. Being half-naked was bad enough. Technically he was never naked, what with the fur and all, except the fur was exactly the problem. Maybe it would be better if he crossed his arms. No, that didn't do anything. He uncrossed them. Crossed them. Realized Jonas was watching him.

  
"Uh...what are you doing?"

  
Wholly embarrassed, Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. "Just drying off."

  
Jonas raised an eyebrow. The cute little shit was smirking at him. "Wouldn't that be easier over here by the fire?"

  
Mitch nodded. "Makes sense." He didn't move.

  
Jonas patted the floor beside him.

  
It was as much of an invitation as Mitch could hope for. He plopped down, tucking his tail away from Jonas. The warmth did feel nice, though it made the smell of his drying fur even more pungent. He glanced over to see if Jonas noticed, too.

  
But Jonas was staring into the fire, clearly deep in thought. Mitch cleared his throat. "Is something wrong?"

  
A look of determination flared in Jonas' eyes, and Mitch would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little afraid. "About last night..." Jonas said. Mitch cringed. Fuck, this couldn't be good. He nodded for Jonas to continue even though his mind was screaming at him to get the fuck out of there. Jonas took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

  
Mitch blinked. He'd misunderstood, clearly. "What?"

  
Jonas' eyes bored into his. They were so soft, so kind, so earnest. "How I reacted, when I walked in on you. I'm sorry. I was just surprised, but I think I made you think... Well, I can't pretend to know what you thought, but I wanted you to know that I wasn't scared or anything. If that's what you thought. And that I'm sorry."

  
Mitch gaped. Had he hit his head on a rock at the beach? "Joey," he said. Not at all sure what he'd say afterwards. Because yeah, he'd thought Jonas was afraid and probably disgusted. And here he was saying that wasn't true? Mitch couldn't really believe it. He swallowed thickly. "You know, it's okay if you were. Scared of me, I mean."

  
Jonas pulled his knees into his chest. "I was, when I first came to the castle," he admitted. "But not so much anymore."

  
Mitch should have taken the victory and run. Left it alone. Instead he opened his mouth and fucked it up. "I stabbed my stepfather." The words hung in the air like a fog of poison. He desperately wanted to look away, to not see the moment when Jonas realized he probably should have been afraid after all. Mitch's heart pounded. He stared at Jonas, unable to look away as he plowed forward. "He fucking deserved it, Joey. The things he did to me and...my mom." His voice caught. "But that girl...the enchantress. She had different fucking opinions on it. She said what I did was monstrous, and that I should look as much like a monster as I was on the inside." He clenched his fists at the memory. The way she'd looked down at him like scum.

  
There it was: Jonas looked as horrified as Mitch expected. "Did he die?"

  
Mitch let out a bark of laughter. "Nah. Right before she cursed me she saved his life. And then I was gone, and I didn't even know if the fucker left town or went back to my mom or..." He snarled. "I wondered for months if she was okay before I finally figured out I could just came back to fucking check on her. He was gone, but the fuck left her with nothing. And there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do about it. I don't even know what she thinks happened to me. She probably thinks I just abandoned her."

  
Jonas' eyes glinted, like he was seconds away from crying again. It ripped Mitch up inside in ways he couldn't fathom. He wanted to run from the room, hide his face away, and brush away the tears all at once. He wanted it all to be over as much as he desperately clung to the idea of Jonas understanding. In the end he sat there and waited.

  
Jonas bit his lip. "How old were you?"

  
"Fifteen."

  
"Fifteen," he whispered, wiping his eyes. "Sorry. I really didn't mean to cry again."

  
Crying was better than screaming. Probably. Though Mitch still felt tightly wound, waiting for the fallout. When he couldn't stand it anymore he urged Jonas to speak. "What are you thinking?" If he thought Mitch was a monster, it was better to have it confirmed. Better not to have hope if there wasn't any.

  
Instead of answering, Jonas reached out and did the most surprising thing Mitch could think of: he took Mitch's hand in his own, with so much gentleness that Mitch thought for sure it would be the thing to break him.

  
"I'm so sorry," Jonas said. His face was a torrent of emotions. Mitch froze, afraid the slightest movement would break whatever spell Jonas was under at the moment that made him look up at Mitch with so much softness. "You didn't deserve that. She had not right to curse you."

  
He squeezed Jonas' hand, then gently tried to pull away. Jonas held fast. Mitch needed to make him understand. "Jonas." He said the name like a prayer. "I wanted to kill him." Years later and the words brought all the emotions of that day bubbling back to the surface: anger, fear, sorrow, relief.

  
"I'm not saying what you did was the best thing or even the right thing. But neither was what she did to you." Jonas relaxed his grip, making it clear that if Mitch wanted to pull away he could.

  
He didn't. If Jonas wanted to reach out a hand who was he to slap it away? He held on tighter.

  
They sat like that for a while in the silence. Mitch wasn't quite convinced--like at any moment Jonas would realize what he'd said and leap away from him--but then Jonas rubbed small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb, and Mitch just leaned into the touch and let his mind go quiet.

  
Fuck, Mitch wanted to kiss Jonas. He wanted it more than he wanted to break his curse. If sitting there holding hands made him feel this good, he could only imagine what kissing would be like. Or more. He groaned internally at the thought and tried to push the images away before his body responded.

  
Fuck, he was such a mess.

  
Eventually, once they were dry, Jonas stood, deeming it was time for bed. In the castle, Mitch usually wandered around at night. He'd find a place to sleep for a while before he'd wake up imagining he heard his mother screaming for help or that he felt his stepfather's hands around his neck. Then he'd wander until he was too tired to take another step and sleep until he couldn't anymore. The cycle would continue until the sun came up and he found something better to do.

  
It wasn't safe to wander around the inn. Not that Mitch much cared if it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to leave Jonas alone in a strange place. There was only one bed in the room, and no other furniture. He'd just have to sit there on the floor, then.

  
"Um, Mitch?" He looked back at Jonas, who was already crawling beneath the covers. The inn wasn't the nicest and the beds weren't the most comfortable, but they were clean at least.

  
"Yeah?"

  
"You can...come up here too, if you want."

  
Mitch couldn't believe his ears. "Wait, really?"

  
Even in the darkness he could see Jonas blush. "We're both adults. We can share a bed. For sleeping." He blushed harder.  
Mitch was on his feet in a second.

  
Jonas scooted over to make room for him. The bed was positioned with one side pushed against the wall, so Jonas scooted away until his back was against the it. Mitch plopped himself down. He stayed above the blanket, to spare them both some awkwardness, but also because he hardly needed it with his fur. It was only by a stroke of luck that they picked a room with a bed big enough for the both of them. Even so it was a tight fit. There was no way for them to both lie down without some part of them touching. Just an arm here and a leg there. Even so Mitch felt like every nerve in his body shut off except the ones where he brushed against Jonas. Those worked overtime. Deep breaths, he reminded himself.

  
Jonas rolled on his side to look at him. "Do you want to go to sleep, or is it okay to keep talking for a while?" His voice was a gentle murmur in the dark room.

  
"Talking's good," he said in an equally hushed voice.

  
"Is it alright if I ask about your mom?"

  
Mitch sighed. "Her name's Henrietta. She lives in a house we passed on the way here, with my aunt. They wash clothes. Or they did, last I checked. They worked in the tavern for a while, too, and my mom's done whatever else she needed to do to make ends meet. To take care of me." He looked at Jonas, who was listening with rapt attention. Something about the darkness of the room, lit only by the fire, and Jonas' closeness to him, made him want to give something away. "I miss her," he murmured. The words twisted a knife lodged in his chest.

  
Jonas leaned closer. "I--I can't imagine. I've only been away from Sidney a few days and I miss her so much it hurts." He reached out a hand, let his fingers brush against Mitch's arm. "How long has it been?"

  
Mitch swallowed. "Five years. Yeah, I know," he said to Jonas' expression. "But don't worry about me. I'm fine on my own. I just worry about her, you know?"

  
"You haven't actually spoken to her in five years." He said it like it just dawned on him.

  
"I know, Joey, I just...ugh. What am I supposed to do? What if I go up to her looking like this," he motioned wildly to his entire self, "and she...she..."

  
Jonas frowned. He had a look on his face that Mitch was starting to recognize meant more questions. It was endearing but he really just wasn't up for it at the moment.

  
He interrupted before Jonas had the chance to speak. "Hey, I just remembered that you never explained to me why you wanted those flowers so badly."

  
Jonas blushed. "The roses?"

  
"Yeah."

  
"Um...It was nothing really. Just, uh." He was completely flustered.

  
"Ah," Mitch said. Even though his insides twisted. "A girl?"

  
The deepening blush on Jonas' face answered for him.

  
That was why it was better not to hope. Because it hurt so much more when it was gone.

* * *

Jonas looked at Mitch by the light of the dying fire. He'd fallen asleep first, dozing off while telling Jonas about his escapades with Scratch, Cliff, and Javier. Before they'd all been cursed.

  
Jonas couldn't sleep yet. Actually, he didn't know if he'd ever get to sleep tonight. The only reason he'd gotten into bed at all was because the floor had begun to hurt his ass. He sat tucked away in the corner of the bed, pressed tightly against the wall. His head buzzed with too many thoughts, and even worse, his chest clenched with too many emotions. A lot of it was worry, like whether he'd said the right thing to Mitch after all or just made everything worse. He worried that the innkeeper would walk in at any time. He worried about Sidney, a constant ache he'd grown almost used to. He worried that he'd grown used to it.

  
But he also felt a growing sense of happiness. Seeing the ocean for the first time and then playing, like he hadn't done since he and Sidney were kids and Dean had deemed them old enough to trade playtime for chores.

  
Then, something that worried him and made him happy. A nameless emotion he'd felt when he'd taken Mitch's hand in his own, and Mitch squeezed it back. The way Mitch looked disappointed when Jonas talked about Carmen and how he suddenly found himself not wanting to think about her at all. A soft wonder in the way Mitch looked at him. It sent a shiver up his spine to even think of it now.

  
Mitch jerked a little in his sleep. It was a small movement, the kind a dog made when it dreamed. Jonas frowned. Mitch's face was contorted into an expression of pain, and his breathing grew more rapid.

  
Jonas didn't know if he'd said the right things earlier. Maybe there was no right thing. He did know that he could do something now. Slowly, carefully, he stretched back out beside Mitch. He touched Mitch's hand lightly. Then as smoothly as he could he draped himself over Mitch's chest, wrapping his arms around his chest and squeezing lightly. It seemed to have some effect. At least Mitch's breathing slowed, and the jerking subsided.

  
Jonas had meant to be comforting but found himself relaxing, too. He could hear Mitch's heartbeat, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Even his smell, which was a little gamey but also like pine trees and the sea, was beginning to become familiar and comforting to him. Jonas found he didn't want to sleep but to enjoy the quiet peaceful moment while he could.

  
By this time tomorrow he'd be home.

  
He scowled and buried his face into Mitch's chest. No, that thought didn't make him feel better after all.

* * *

 

Mitch woke up slowly, groggily. The sun shone in through the window, and the smell of the extinguished fire drifted up from the grate. It had been a while since he'd slept through an entire night. He went to stretch and found he was hindered by a comfortable weight on his chest.

  
His eyes popped open. Holy fucking shit. Jonas was stretched out over him. Not just lying there but with his arms wrapped around Mitch, holding him tightly, one leg thrown over his hips. His knee was dangerously close to Mitch's crotch, where he was sporting a morning erection. Jonas must have rolled over in the night and just ended up grabbing him in his sleep. Waking up in such a compromising position would be strange enough for Jonas, but it was probably better if he didn't also find himself rubbing up against Mitch's hard-on.

  
Jonas stirred. Oh, now Mitch was fucked. Jonas lifted his head. His face was still soft with sleep, his dark curls in complete disarray. He looked around the room, blinked up at Mitch a couple of times, and lay his head back down on Mitch's chest. Instead of moving away like Mitch expected, Jonas curled up against him even closer. He even nuzzled his head closer to Mitch's neck.

  
Mitch could have died right then and been happy.

  
Reasonably, he knew that Jonas was probably just too sleepy still to realize what he was doing. If he was smart, he'd have just laid there quietly until Jonas woke up, and memorized every detail of the moment. Except that one little detail was currently pressed up against Mitch's hip.

  
Also, Mitch didn't have the best record for making smart decisions.

  
Mitch laughed. Even to his own ears he sounded almost hysterical and much too loud in the quiet morning. Jonas jerked his head up again, clearly startled and now more awake. Since Mitch had scared the shit out of him. Smooth. Yet Jonas still didn't make a move get off of him, though he did look up at Mitch curiously. Mitch grinned. If he looked half as wild as he felt, Jonas would surely be terrified now. "Happy to see me, Joey?" he said, nodding downwards before realizing he was about to call attention to his own morning situation as well.

  
He'd expected Jonas to get flustered and realize what all he was doing or possibly even jump away. Instead he studied Mitch's face carefully. Mitch felt his hackles raise from a strange mix of embarrassment and a pleasant kind of fear, until at last Jonas said in an almost bewildered voice, "Yeah, I think I am."

  
Mitch had no time to process this because right then the door slammed open with a deafening crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *giggles* boners


	10. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mars owns all things Long Exposure (and probably also a good chunk of our hearts and souls but who's complaining)

Mitch felt panic like a fissure through his body.

  
When the door to the bedroom opened, his first instinct was to put himself between Jonas and the intruder. Which didn't make sense considering the fact that it was Mitch who needed to stay hidden. The innkeeper--a boney man with very little hair and a blotchy face--stood in the doorway, clutching the wall to keep himself upright. His face was a deep shade of red, his teeth bared, and a drop of spittle rolled down his chin. Mitch vaguely remembered that the old man had a tendency to yell when he drank, and to spit when he yelled. As Mitch predicted, the man was drunk off his ass.

  
There was a startled moment of surprise in which the innkeeper regarded them and his inebriated brain struggled to make sense of what he saw. He took one quick look at Mitch and bolted. He stumbled, actually. He may have been screaming.

  
Mitch tore himself away from Jonas and rushed after the innkeeper. He slid out into the hall so quickly he was practically on all fours, prepared to do whatever he had to do. His rush proved unnecessary. He rounded the corner. The innkeeper looked back at Mitch, and this time there was no doubt that he screamed. He was still screaming when his foot missed the top stair and he fell. Several sickening thuds later, the man lay in a heap at the bottom, groaning, just on the edge of consciousness.

  
Mitch could hardly believe his luck.

  
He rushed back into the room to find Jonas hastily pulling on his clothes. He was shaking. He looked up when he heard Mitch, his eyes perfect circles. His chest rose and fell rapidly. "What..."

  
Mitch helped Jonas with his coat, then reached for his own cloak, in a pile on the floor where he'd discarded it last night. While Jonas jerked his boots on, Mitch hurried around the room erasing evidence of their presence there. "Don't worry," he said, taking the extra moment to douse the fire and smooth out the bedsheets. "He fell down the stairs."

  
Jonas spun on him. "He did what?"

  
"Don't worry," Mitch repeated. "He'll be bruised up by tomorrow but other than that he's fine. Oh, and he's drunk as shit, so he won't remember we were even here. And if he does no one will believe him."

  
This was the point Mitch laughed, hoping he could cover up the sound of his own thumping heartbeat and the feeling of dread in his gut. He actually, really couldn't believe his luck; it went against his nature and experience. If something hadn't gone wrong yet it was only a matter of time. He needed to get Jonas out of there before then.

  
Scanning the room to make sure everything was back the way they'd found it, he pulled Jonas towards the window. "There's a roof not far below us. I'll jump down, and then you follow me."

  
"Mitch, wait."

  
"It's fine, Spots. I'll catch you, I promise."

  
Jonas pulled his arm out of Mitch's grip. "No, Mitch, the key."

  
It took a second for Mitch's frantic thoughts to slow down enough for him to process what Jonas meant. It had been a while since he'd done anything like this; clearly he'd lost his touch. "Fuck. I'll run downstairs, put it back, and then we can..."

  
Jonas shook his head. "We want to make it look like no one was ever here, right? Then the door has to be locked from the outside. Only one of us needs to go, and I don't think I can jump out a window by myself."

  
Mitch didn't like where this was headed. "So I'll come down with you."

  
"What if we run into someone? That's too risky." Jonas peered out of the window. "This opens into an alley; you go down and wait for me there. If something happens and we get separated..."

  
Mitch grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Meet me at the tree line, where we hid the saddle. Remember?" Jonas nodded. Fuck, Mitch wanted to kiss him so badly. He'd probably wanted it since the night he first saw Jonas and was only now acknowledging it as something that could happen rather than a wild, impossible fantasy. Regret seeped into his veins over losing whatever moment they were building towards before the innkeeper intruded.

  
He felt intensely vulnerable suddenly. His hand shook as he reached out and brushed a stray curl off Jonas' face, letting his fingers touch his skin in the lightest of touches.

  
Jonas' face was a flood of emotions, the most prominent worry. Mitch kept getting sucked in by Jonas; he'd started to forget that there was a semi-conscious innkeeper who'd seen him, screamed, and possibly attracted attention. Anyone could come walking through the door at any moment. Worry was warranted.

  
Yet it felt more important to see how Jonas would react. If he felt what Mitch was feeling, or Mitch was misinterpreting kindness for something else. For a minute Jonas looked like he was about to say something, whether good or bad Mitch couldn't tell. When he finally spoke it was only to say, in a low, hoarse whisper, "Be careful."

  
Mitch grinned to cover his disappointment. "Look who you're talking to."

  
The worry intensified.

  
Jonas stepped away. He grabbed the key and ducked out of the room. Mitch stared at the door, listening until Jonas' retreating footsteps reached the stairs.  
Getting to the ground was easy

enough. Being a beast did have its advantages: he landed lightly and silently. Waiting was harder. He kept to the shadows, kept his hood pulled low over his face even though the only people he heard seemed to be around the other side of the building.

  
Right where Jonas was.

  
It sounded like people bustling around the tavern. Men leaving late or coming in for something to eat. He fidgeted. He tried to tell himself that Jonas would slip by unnoticed. Except that he was a stranger, and strangers always caught people's attention, especially strangers as beautiful as Jonas.

  
Mitch growled, pulling his hands roughly through his hair. Separating was a terrible fucking idea.

  
A door slammed. Mitch went completely still. The voices he'd been listening to quieted. He watched the corner of the building, expecting Jonas to show up at any second. If he could have done magic through sheer force of will, Jonas would have appeared in front of him in a puff of smoke.

  
He waited. He waited until he realized with certainty that Jonas wouldn't be coming. It occurred to him that it would probably be safer for Jonas if he wasn't there, anyway. If someone saw him it might start a panic. He couldn't let Jonas be caught in the middle of that.

  
Getting out of town and into the woods was easy enough, too. So easy that it left Mitch feeling antsy. It was all wrong. Things rarely went so smoothly when he was involved.

  
Usually Mitch couldn't give a fuck less. It didn't matter to him if he hurt himself. Some days he even preferred it that way. He never gave much thought to the fact that it was this total disregard for personal safety that allowed him to remain so calm in dangerous situations. Looking out for someone else changed everything. It turned him into a quivering mess.

  
Jonas still hadn't shown up yet.

  
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, with no one around to hear him but the trees. "Fuck fuck fuck."

  
If anything happened to Jonas, he'd never forgive himself.

* * *

 

Stepping over the drunk man at the bottom of the stairs felt like a feat since Jonas' legs wobbled like a bowl of jelly. He was shaking and it wasn't entirely from fear.

  
He was relieved to see the innkeeper was breathing. Snoring, in fact. He didn't stir when Jonas moved around him. He reeked of alcohol and urine.

  
Jonas put the key back quickly and exited the inn, trying to remember what Mitch had said about looking like he belonged. Yeah. He was exactly where he was meant to be. Though he wouldn't deny he'd feel a whole lot better once he was back with Mitch again.

  
In his nervousness he slammed the door behind him.

  
A group of men loitering across the street raised their heads at the sound. Jonas froze. He could see in their expressions, at once guarded and curious, that they weren't buying his act. Which wasn't surprising, if he looked half as crazed as he felt. He didn't get the sense that they'd cause him any trouble, but if they were even the slightest bit suspicious, he couldn't lead them to Mitch. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, away from the alley and towards the heart of the city.

  
That was why they'd quickly arranged an alternate meeting place, right?

  
Of course, he hadn't counted on going back into the city. It took him about five minutes to realize he was, once again, hopelessly lost. He figured that if he picked a direction and walked that way for long enough the town would spit him out eventually, and he could circumnavigate it from there. Yet every time he took a turn, he found himself lost again, unable to get his bearings. He was beginning to get an eerie sense of deja vu.

  
Maybe he kept getting lost because his thoughts consumed his entire focus. Everything, from last night to that morning to moments ago, whirled in his head. The most consuming thought was the most embarrassing. Mitch had asked if Jonas was happy to see him, and Jonas, not realizing right away that it was a joke, had said yes. And Mitch's face-- Just thinking about his expression made Jonas' face burn.

  
He really shouldn't think about that right now, what he'd seen in Mitch's expression. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he would have to think about it eventually. Whatever was happening between them. Because, yeah, of course he'd noticed Mitch flirting with him, but he'd thought Mitch was teasing him. He wasn't so sure anymore. He was even less sure how he felt about that.

  
Not to mention the fact that it had only dawned on him as Mitch barreled away in pursuit of the innkeeper that what Mitch was joking about was the fact that Jonas was hard. He told himself that just because he was curled around Mitch when it happened and his dick was pressed against Mitch's hip didn't mean anything. These things just happened.

  
The problem was, Jonas wasn't sure it wasn't because of Mitch, at least a little.

  
He buried his head in his hands and groaned.

  
"Jonas?" a voice called.

  
Jonas spun and found himself face to face with the girl from yesterday. "Oh, hello." He felt relieved at the sight of someone familiar and realized just how much he'd begun to panic.

  
Madison walked up to him, carrying a basket of eggs. Today her expression seemed a little less foreboding. "I'm glad to see you again," she said. "I worried all night that you'd gone ahead with your trip." She frowned. "Are you alright? You look flushed."

  
Jonas laughed, an uneasy sound. "Fine, just a little, um, cold." Madison looked at him with an expression that said she knew he was hiding something and that she was determined to figure out what. Then again maybe that was just her face. He pushed on. "I took your advice and stayed at an inn." It seemed like a dangerous thing to admit. He regretted it immediately.

  
Madison didn't seem to notice. "I'm glad," she said again. "Which way are you headed? You seemed a bit lost. Perhaps I could walk with you."

  
On the one hand, he could use the help. On the other, he had absolutely no idea what he was going to tell her. What he could tell her, without giving away something vital.

  
Madison waited.

  
"I'm...visiting a family friend," he blurted. Shit. Now he panicked. The lie was the first reasonable thing to pop into his head, but of course Madison would want to know who he was visiting. Not to mention he was a terrible lier. A cold sweat already sprang up over his back.

  
"What's their name? My father keeps town records, so I know most everyone in town by name if nothing else.

  
Now he'd done it. Jonas had finally screwed up past the point of no return. If he said a common name, Madison would ask for more details, details Jonas didn't have. On the other hand she would catch on to him if he said anything too strange.

  
One name popped into his head, and he realized it was the only one he could be certain of. "Henrietta." The word burned his throat. Not because of the lie but because he felt he'd somehow betrayed Mitch.

  
Madison frowned. "The washer woman?" Her voice wavered between doubt and thinly veiled disgust.

  
Jonas nodded vigorously. "My family used to do business with hers, and there was an old debt that needed to be settled. I didn't think it was even worth bothering with, but, uh, since I'm here an extra day..." He shrugged. He had no idea where any of that came from.

  
Madison's face, open and friendly seconds ago, closed like a metal trap. Her voice rang hollowly in Jonas' ears as she said, "I know where she lives, and it's not too far out of my way. I'll take you."

  
Jonas was just relieved that it seemed like the incident was almost over. "I'd really appreciate it," he said, "but only if it isn't an imposition."

  
"Not at all," she assured him. They started their walk side by side through town. Something unpleasant hung thick in the air between them. "But, Jonas," she added after a moment's silence, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "You really should take more care with whom you associate. You don't want to fall in with the wrong company."

  
Jonas felt unexpectedly angry. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Thanks for the advice, but I can judge for myself who I want to be with."

  
Madison looked just as surprised at his tone as he felt. Her eyes narrowed. "Whatever," she snapped. She quickened her pace.

  
Even with Madison leading the way, Jonas couldn't have said how they ended up back in the "bad" part of town. He expected them to pass back by inn. They didn't. Madison pointed out a little house squeezed in among a row of identical homes.

  
Jonas' hands shook as he knocked on the door.

  
Madison didn't wait to see him inside. She walked away muttering something about "drunks and degenerates."

  
He probably could have left. Even if Madison was still watching, what did it really matter now? He reminded himself that he needed to do anything he could to throw off suspicion.

  
Besides, he was curious.

  
For a while, nothing happened. Then the door flew open, revealing a tall, blonde woman. Even though Mitch was covered in fur and horns and all and this woman was just a woman, the resemblance was remarkable. This was Mitch's mother.  
"Oh!" she said, quite loudly. "Hello there. Can I help you?" She spoke with an unfamiliar accent.

  
Most shocking of all was how friendly she was. It was the first person who seemed truly welcoming since he'd stepped foot in this town.

  
Her brightness was so disarming that he found the truth pouring out of his mouth. "I'm sorry to bother you," he said, careful to keep his voice low, "I just needed to get away from the girl I was with. I told her I was visiting a family friend. Can I come in, just for a minute? Please?" He tried to sound nonthreatening.

  
Henrietta's eyes swept the street behind him with a quick, covert skill that could only be gained after years of looking over one's shoulder. Her face remained as relaxed and pleasant as before, showing no sign that she saw anyone at all much less someone worthy of escaping. Jonas worried for a second that she was about to tell him to shove off.

  
She grabbed his arm with a surprisingly firm grip. Her loud voice carried as she practically shouted, "Oh, you've grown up so much I didn't recognize you! Come in, don't be a stranger." She pulled him inside like she was pulling him in for a hug.

  
"You okay, sweetheart?" she said once the door was firmly shut behind them. Henrietta put her hands on either side of Jonas' face and looked him over. Her eyes were warm, the same color and shape as Mitch's. The familiarity of the gesture made Jonas' heart squeeze unexpectedly. Even Sue never looked at him like that.

  
"I'm fine." He felt breathless. "Thank you. I really am sorry to impose..."

  
She brushed him off. "Don't you worry about it, honey. She didn't do anything to you, did she?" Her eyes were filled with genuine concern.

  
Jonas was confused. "Do anything? What..." Jonas noticed for the first time that under the concern was the ghost of fear in Henrietta's eyes. Fear for him. He was missing something. Why would seeing Madison scare her? Unless... Jonas' frown deepened. He was wrong; he was being ridiculous. "She couldn't be...Is Madison an enchantress?"

  
Henrietta looked alarmed and pulled him deeper into the house. They passed by a bed where a woman who smelled of alcohol snored loudly. They stopped by the stove, where a fire crackled and burned. Henrietta dropped her voice low until Jonas could only just hear her above the noise. "You have to be careful," she warned him, "saying things like that. The only people who know for sure are the people who've disappeared. Did you do anything to piss her off, sweetheart? Anything at all?"

  
Jonas shook his head. Even though he remembered the look she'd given him when he snapped at her. His heart stuttered. "She was just showing me around, but I...I did get a bad feeling." A bad feeling didn't make someone an enchantress. He wanted to be skeptical. The expression on Henrietta's face didn't leave much room for skepticism.

  
Henrietta nodded. She actually seemed relieved. "Kids have gone missing." She didn't say more. She couldn't know that she didn't need to. That Jonas had met those kids and knew one of them was hers.

  
If Jonas was going to get answers, this was the time. "You don't have any idea what happened to them?"

  
She shook her head. "A lot of people around here don't even believe in witches and enchantresses anymore. But you know, nothing else I can think of makes sense. They were there one day and gone the next." She laughed, a bitter sound. "I do the washing for that girl's family. Not long after a group of three kids went missing, I overheard her talking to her parents. Saying they'd run away. That they were 'that sort.'" She snorted. "I've known those children all their lives. They may have seemed rough to some people but..." Her breath hitched. She hugged her elbows tight into her stomach. "They wouldn't just leave like that, without a word to anyone, their families. It doesn't make sense. Why they would leave. Why someone would make them leave."

  
Though her voice shook her eyes remained dry. Jonas couldn't imagine the kinds of things that had to happen to a person to keep them from crying even when they were in so much pain.

  
He didn't know what he could say to her that would be enough but not too much. "I believe you," he said at last. Maybe he didn't think it was really Madison. As far as the rest of it, he could say with absolute conviction, "I know you're right."

  
Henrietta smiled at him. Jonas could see that Mitch got his mouth from her, too. But it really was their eyes that had the most resemblance: not just the shape and color but the way that they could be so hard one moment and then suddenly melt into an expression so unbelievably gentle.

  
"I didn't mean to unload on you like that," she said. "I'm becoming a blabbermouth in my old age. Going on and on to a perfect stranger. Can I get you something to drink or eat?"

  
They were terribly similar. She and Mitch were the kind of people the world had beaten and bruised yet they still offered everything they had. Jonas needed to give her something, too.

  
He politely declined her offer. "I need to get going, but thank you. For everything." They walked back past the sleeping woman and to the door. Mitch's mother peered out before opening it wide enough to let Jonas pass.

  
"Be careful," she said. She didn't shut the door but lingered, clearly intent on making sure he got on his way safely.  
Jonas lingered because he couldn't tell her anything but couldn't tell her nothing, either. "Do you know that old story, about the prince who got cursed?"

  
Henrietta looked confused but nodded. "Of course. I used to tell it to my son when he was a baby."

  
"He got turned into a beast." Jonas willed her to somehow understand that he meant Mitch. He looked into her eyes and begged her to get what he was trying to say. It was a ridiculous plan. He knew that. He didn't have a better one.

  
Henrietta leaned against the doorframe. Of course she didn't understand. In fact she looked mildly amused. "Yeah, but you know that wasn't the real curse, right?"

  
Jonas blinked. "What do you mean?"

  
Her voice slipped into the tone adults reserved for telling tales to children. "After she cursed the prince, the powerful enchantress set down a curse on the castle and the lands around it. The crops failed, the animals died, and the people succumbed to sickness. Not long after, those that remained fled and settled in new towns, far beyond the reaches of the forest." She looked a little dazed. "That's how we were always told this place was founded. But anyway. The enchantress cursed the prince to be a beast until he could find someone to love him as he was. Which is hard enough without being a monster, but you're too young to know anything about that." She winked. Jonas blushed. "I always thought it was terribly sad, like she didn't want him to break the curse. Like she didn't care about anything but punishment for how he'd offended her. She made him a monster, but that was the real curse: he was alone."

  
Jonas felt mute. When he'd decided to come here, this was the last thing he expected. He felt utterly bewildered.  
Henrietta patted him on the head. "Oh, don't look so sad. I always read too much into these things. Besides, that's not the most important part of the story. The only thing that you need to know about curses is that they're made to be broken."

* * *

 

If Jonas didn't show up in the next five minutes, Mitch was going in after him. He didn't give a shit if the townspeople saw him. Let them scream and run. Let them form a fucking mob and chase him down the goddamn street waving their torches and pitchforks. The way he felt right now he'd fight them all.

  
Every person who came even close to the edge of town had him jumping, pacing the edge of the forest until he realized it wasn't Jonas. His tail thrashed with his impatience and a low growl rumbled through his chest.

  
His heart seized when he finally saw a horse led by a boy round the corner of a building and walk his way. Walking at a painfully slow pace. Mitch searched for any signs of hurt or distress. His nerves vibrated so much he felt like he was coming out of his skin. It was a long walk and every second was agony.

  
Other than a slightly dazed expression, Jonas appeared fine. He caught sight of Mitch and stepped up his pace. Almost there.  
Mitch didn't realize he was reaching forward until Jonas was suddenly in his arms, and even though he was the one who technically initiated it, Mitch gasped in surprise. His arms hung suspended in the air for a moment longer before he came to his senses enough to wrap them around Jonas.

  
He'd been so worried that he hadn't spared much time to think about what happened before the innkeeper interrupted them. A small voice in the back of Mitch's head reminded him, _he said he was happy to see you. He's happy to see you now._ Mitch wanted to bury his face in Jonas' hair and breathe him in. He might have done just that if Jonas weren't so much smaller than him, meaning there was no way he could do it without leaning over in a not-so-subtle way. Jonas' face was pressed into his chest. And this time he was awake and knew what he was doing.

  
Mitch was grinning like an idiot and loving every second of it.

  
They let go at last. Mitch looked Jonas over one last time to make sure he really was okay. "What took you so fucking long, Spots? I was starting to think I needed to round up a search party."

  
It was only then that Mitch noticed Jonas wasn't fine. What he'd thought was just Jonas being stunned from the events of the day clearly went much deeper than that. "It's...complicated." He frowned at the ground. "But that's not really important right now. I think we need to get moving." He glanced back at the town with a worried look.

  
Curiosity burned in Mitch. He glanced back at the town--to see if maybe one of Cliff's relatives had actually noticed Jonas take his horse back, or if someone followed him--but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

  
Jonas laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please," he urged.

  
Mitch almost made a joke about how badly Jonas wanted to leave. It didn't seem so funny anymore.

  
Now more than ever he wanted to delay their journey. It got more difficult to imagine walking away from Jonas at the end of this. There was something there, he could feel it. Despite his own doubts and fears, he had brief moments of clarity when he just knew. If he just had more time...

  
The moments always passed and Mitch remembered himself. His situation. He gritted his teeth. "You'll have to lead the way this time," he said. The smile he offered up felt sticky and fake. "I showed you my home town, now you show me yours."

  
Jonas looked at him curiously. He chewed his lower lip, thinking. Mitch couldn't decided it he wanted to focus more on Jonas' eyes or lips. It was a very good problem to have.

  
"No."

  
Mitch was pulled from his gawking. "What?"

  
"I said no. I'm going back with you to the castle."

  
Jonas looked so obstinately determined, yet there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes as he searched Mitch's face. Mitch couldn't help but laugh. He didn't understand the sudden change, and if he stopped to think about it it would probably worry him. So he wouldn't think. He'd gotten what he wanted, after all: more time with Jonas.

  
Really, Mitch couldn't believe his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exit, pursued by a Mitch  
> Also known as the chapter in which I reveal my great love for Henrietta and also people who reveal their entire life's story to complete strangers within seconds of meeting them.  
> Annnddd....we're headed back to the castle. Jonas just can't make up his mind. But I think it will be worth it ;)


	11. Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super excited about this one, guys. Long Exposure belongs to Mars.  
> You may have noticed the rating went up to M. I debated heavily but figured it's better to give an unnecessary warning than not have one that's needed. Speaking of which...  
> IMPORTANT, CONTENT WARNING: we (briefly and non-explicitly) touch on nightmares/night terrors, body issues. Be safe.

~~~~"You're back." Javier looked as surprised as any clock possibly could.

  
Mitch scowled in response but Jonas, who felt warm and bubbly, couldn't help but smile. While the way to Mitch's hometown had been almost unbearably miserable, the way back turned out to be one of the most pleasant journeys of Jonas' life. It was a combination of things: the brightness of a sunny day with snow on the ground, the comfortable silence that settled between them, the way Mitch kept glancing at him when he thought Jonas wasn't looking and then grinning. Even Bud seemed to feel it, practically prancing his way back through the forest, picking up his pace when the castle came in view the way horses did when they knew they were going home.

  
Mitch moved further into the castle, but Javier stayed where he was. He looked at Jonas in a way that threatened the happy mood of the day. Jonas squirmed. "Is something wrong?"

  
Javier didn't say anything for a minute, then shrugged. "Nah, nothing's wrong. I just wondered. What made you change your mind and decide to come back here?"

  
Jonas opened his mouth to answer when Mitch shouted back at them, "Come on, Spots! I know you gotta be starving by now."

  
Just like that they fell into a routine. Jonas couldn't entirely break the habit of waking up at the crack of dawn--years of working the farm with animals who insisted on keeping a schedule, not to mention Dean. Not that it made him any happier about waking up so early. At least now that he didn't have actual chores he could go back to sleep after he checked on Bud. He'd eat breakfast before crawling back in bed, belly full and warm. Most days it felt like the height of luxury.

  
On days when the creeping voice in the back of his mind--the one that sounded most like Dean--whispered that he was useless and lazy, Jonas wandered down to the library. This was usually where he found Mitch. Almost like he's waiting for me, Jonas thought, which made him smile. They hung out there until one of them thought of something better to do.

  
One day, while Jonas read and Mitch caused a small amount of trouble that Jonas was all too happy to ignore, he commented, "For someone who doesn't read you sure do spend a whole lot of time in the library."

  
Mitch looked up from whatever he was doing--something involving a knife, a candle, and a deck of cards. He looked bashful for a second before breaking out in his usual sleazy grin. "'Cause you're always in here, Spots."

  
Jonas rolled his eyes but also hid his face behind his book.

  
It had been like that since they'd gotten back to the castle. Since they'd left Peach Creek, really. The night they'd spent together lingered in the air between them, keeping them stuck in a state between happy and awkward. At least, that was how Jonas felt. He didn't know what Mitch thought. They hadn't talked about it. Beyond the little comments Mitch made every now and then.

  
Then there was the whole sleeping situation. If they were together when it came time to go to sleep--and most nights they were--Mitch walked Jonas to his bedroom. He lingered in the doorway, smiling at Jonas and waiting.

  
Jonas almost asked him in a dozen times. Every time, without fail, he'd open his mouth to say, "Do you want to sleep here tonight?" and what came out was, "Goodnight." He could see the flicker of disappointment in Mitch's eyes every time. Even so he never pushed it.

  
Jonas lay in bed, cursing himself silently. It was only sleeping, for God's sake. Except he couldn't deny the feeling that it was much more significant than that. Repeating what they'd done in the inn felt like admitting something.

  
Namely, that with every passing day, Jonas felt himself falling for Mitch. And no matter how terrifying that was, he couldn't deny that every day that passed made him want more and more to let Mitch in.

* * *

Mitch stared out the window, watching Jonas lead Bud on a walk around the castle grounds. He sat in one of the towers. Being up so high made his stomach turn, but it was the best vantage point to see the grounds.

  
"What are you looking at with that dopey-ass smile on your face?" Javier asked. Mitch didn't say anything. Javier nodded.

"Ah."

  
"Shut the fuck up," Mitch growled.

  
Javier laughed. "What? I didn't say anything."

  
Mitch snorted. "Yeah, well, I could hear you fucking thinking." He looked over to where Scratch had cliff pinned to the floor, while Cliff screamed something about an unfair fight. Mitch wanted to remind him that even with arms and legs, Scratch would still kick his ass.

  
Javier pulled himself up to the window sill and looked out. Mitch glanced back down, where he knew Jonas was saddling up the horse. He caught Javier grinning at him. "See," he said, pointing at Mitch's face. "Dopey smile." He laughed while Mitch snarled. Then he lowered his voice. "So what's the plan?"

  
"Plan for what?"

  
"For wooing the kid."

  
"There...there isn't any 'wooing' going on."

  
"Come on, man. I see the way you look at him. The way you two act with each other."

  
Mitch stood up and tried to walk away, but Javier only followed. Mitch could easily outpace him now, what with Javier being a clock and only a foot tall. Something about that felt unusually cruel and he tried to avoid it if possible. Instead he muttered, "Whatever," and settled back at the window.

  
Scratch hopped over. Goddamn, it was creepy enough with just him, but now the whole crew was watching Jonas like a bunch of vultures. Mitch just hoped Jonas never thought to look up; Mitch didn't think he could survive the embarrassment if he got caught.

  
Scratch looked up at him and waggled her eyebrows. Sometimes it was hard to read the expressions on her little metallic face, but usually she was so loud about whatever she was feeling that it didn't matter. "Mitch!" she screamed. She started climbing up to his shoulder. "I need a better view of the cutie, hold still."

  
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Mitch muttered as she jabbed him in the neck.

  
Cliff looked out, too. Mitch wasn't sure how he looked when he didn't technically have eyes. Then again, he'd never seen Cliff's eyes when they were human, either, so.

  
He may not have had eyes, but Cliff did have a big mouth. He made a scoffing sound and said, "So when's the little fatso gonna leave, anyway?"

  
Mitch wasn't sure if it was the insult or the unwelcome reminder of the impermanence of his situation. Either way he saw red. He was on his feet so fast that Scratch nearly toppled off his shoulder and had to grab his ear to keep her balance. He ignored her. It pissed him off that Cliff wasn't human, that Mitch couldn't punch him in that big chin of his or toss him against a wall without breaking him like the glass jar he was.

  
He loomed over Cliff, putting his full teeth on display, and for now that would have to be enough. He dropped his voice down to a low menace. "He'll stay for as long as he wants, you fucker. And if I hear you say one word against him, I'll toss you out the window and find out what happens to you if you break."

  
It was hard to tell, considering Cliff was currently a bottle and all, but he seemed shaken. "S-sorry," he sputtered.

  
There was a moment of silence filled only by the low, rumbling snarl in Mitch's chest.

  
Scratch gasped. "Oh, I want to go ride the horse! Let's go!" She kicked Mitch's shoulder like he was a horse she was trying to spur forward.

  
Mitch made a disgusted sound but complied.

  
Jonas had already unsaddled Bud by the time they found him. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Javier, Scratch, and Cliff dragging up the rear. His eyes found Mitch last, and his already flushed cheeks reddened. "Hi," he said breathlessly.

  
Mitch's stomach did a somersault. "Hi. Scratch wants to ride your mule."

  
Jonas looked at Scratch, who was now bouncing excitedly on Mitch's shoulder. "Should I put the saddle back on?"

  
Scratch shook her head and leapt. It was probably only luck that she actually landed on the horse, though she had to scrabble to grab his mane to keep from falling. With a heave she pulled herself up and settled down onto his back. For his part, Bud quickly went from mildly alarmed to quietly accepting. Jonas handed Scratch the reins.

  
With a whoop and a kick, she commanded Bud forward. There was a brief moment of confusion in which he turned his head to look at Jonas, as if seeking reassurance. After that he followed Scratch's commands, apparently deciding it didn't matter if his new rider was small, metallic, and on fire. They rode off at a bouncing trot.

  
"Sorry," Mitch muttered, keeping his eyes on the horse and candle as they rode towards the gate and then along the length of the wall.

  
Jonas laughed lightly. "Why?"

  
"We interrupted your morning."

  
"Don't be sorry. This is the most fun I've had in ages. You can interrupt me anytime."

  
Mitch gulped. From the corner of his eye he saw Javier, motioning for him to go on. He also saw Cliff move away. So long as he didn't say a word to Jonas, Mitch didn't give a fuck what he did.

  
Scratch had Bud in a full run as they came barreling back, kicking up powered waves of snow. Jonas took a step closer to Mitch to avoid getting trampled as they streaked past. It was a perfect time for Mitch to reach out and put his arm around Jonas, or to take his hand. He could always pretend it was about the cold if his actions weren't well received. He stood there trying to muster up his courage to make a move until Scratch guided Bud towards Cliff.

  
Cliff squawked and did the bottle equivalent of running away. Scratch followed him, pulling the horse up to a slow trot, each hoof landing in the snow just behind Cliff. She howled with laughter.

  
"Oh, boy," Jonas said. His expression was a mix of amusement and concern.

  
Mitch just laughed.

  
After Scratch had her fun, Javier herded them back to the castle. "Thanks for the ride, cutie pie!" Scratch called back to Jonas as they left.

  
Bud snuffled at Jonas' coat pockets. "Alright, alright," he said, a bright laugh in his voice. He pulled out a carrot, which the animal munched happily, more slowly than Mitch had ever seen any horse chew.

  
He kept his distance. He'd been good with animals before. There were things about his curse he'd learned to deal with, but that part hurt more than most. As a kid he used to bring home all kinds of little creatures, like an alley cat with a broken leg, or the lizards that sunbathed on the walls of the houses. Horses horrified him when he was little: he couldn't imagine sitting so high up. Eventually he came to love them, the quiet cart pullers and flashy show ponies, all of them so soft-eyed and forgiving. He missed people even if he mostly just harassed them the same way he missed horses even though the only ones he'd ever ridden had been stolen.

  
He told this to Jonas.

  
"Well," Jonas said when Mitch finished, "why don't we fix that?" He pulled out another carrot and held it out to Mitch.

  
Mitch hesitated until his desire for proximity--to the animal and Jonas--outweighed his doubts. "Okay, but keep out of the way in case he rears back or something."

  
Jonas rolled his eyes and grabbed Mitch's hand that wasn't shakily holding the carrot, pulling him closer until his hand was resting on Bud's neck with Jonas' hand on top of it. The horse's fur felt about as mangey as it looked. It was fantastic. Mitch watched carefully for any signs that Bud was distressed, but he only turned his head to eye the carrot. Mitch offered and Bud didn't hesitate to take the gift and eat it just as slowly as the first. He wasn't afraid at all.

  
Jonas dragged their hands down Bud's neck. Mitch didn't know which contact he was enjoying more: touching a horse for the first time in years or basically holding hands with the boy he liked.

  
"Not the brightest horse, is he?"

  
Jonas let go of his hand and frowned at him. "Maybe not, but he's the kindest horse I've ever met."

  
He was actually insulted. That was so cute. Mitch held up his free hand. "I didn't mean anything by it, Spots, I just... Any other horse would be afraid."

  
Jonas' face softened at that. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Dean always got mad at him for not being smart, and he overlooked all his other good qualities." His face pinched. Mitch wasn't so sure they were talking about the horse anymore. Before he could press it, Jonas said, "Do you want to try riding him?"

  
A laugh wheezed out of Mitch's chest. "You're serious? You sure move fast, huh, Joey?"

  
"I really don't think he cares." He gestured to the horse, drowsy eyed in the sunlight, with orange-tinted slobber at the corners of his mouth. His long ears flicked easily around, listening to their voices.

  
A moment later Mitch found himself on a horse again. A horse type animal. Jonas insisted it was a horse, though from it's back it really looked more like an overgrown donkey. "Just be gentle," Jonas said as he handed over the reins.

  
Mitch leaned over and grinned. "You'd be surprised just how gentle I can be."

  
Jonas made a clucking noise and the horse moved forward.

  
Mitch was so unprepared that he nearly toppled over, which would have been gravely embarrassing considering they were only moving at a walk. A very slow walk, at that. "Okay, pony," he murmured. "Let's kick this up a little."

  
He would like to have thought he was a good rider. Clearly he was misremembering something, because between the height and the shaking in his legs he was fairly miserable. Jonas was right about Bud being forgiving: any other horse would have bucked him off with all the confusing commands he was giving. Bud just followed each one as they came, without question.

  
Jonas was watching, biting his lip to keep from smiling. Every once in a while he would call out, "You're doing great!" He did it with a barely contained laugh.

  
Mitch pulled Bud to a stop. "Why don't you get up here and show me how it's done, then?" There was a challenge in his voice.  
Jonas snorted. Mitch pulled him up. Jonas settled in in front of him. "Uh," he said. "You should probably put your arms around me. So you don't fall off."

  
Mitch did as instructed. He carefully put his hands on Jonas' hips before sliding them around to his stomach. Nothing he could have dreamed compared to how wonderfully soft Jonas felt. If he had to choose between holding Jonas like that and sex, he'd go mad before being able to make the choice.

  
No, fuck that. If this was just a fantasy why couldn't he do both?

  
He was glad Jonas wasn't facing him and couldn't see the wicked grin on his face.

  
It fell away the moment he felt Jonas stiffen, his back going straight and tense against Mitch. Jonas moved Mitch's hands up until they settled across his ribcage, just under his chest. And then they were off and moving too quickly for Mitch to make a comment.

  
Then he couldn't help but lose himself in the pleasantness of the ride. Now that he wasn't guiding the horse, they moved solidly through the snow. Bud had a slow gait, the rocking not entirely rhythmic but still soothing. Besides, Mitch was in the perfect position to breathe Jonas in, to feel his warmth, and let himself enjoy the closeness.

  
After a quick trip around the castle grounds, Jonas brought them back into the courtyard. Mitch went to dismount first so he could help Jonas. He didn't realize just how wobbly his legs were until his feet touched the ground. His legs gave out.

  
"Mitch! Are you okay?"

  
Mitch rubbed the back of his head where it hit the cobblestones. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just think I'm done with horses for a while."

* * *

 

Jonas cleaned to keep his thoughts from wandering. Alright, he cleaned because if he had to eat in the destroyed dining hall one more time he was going to lose his mind. There wasn't much he could do about the broken furniture, but at the very least he could clean away the food and broken plates. The castle provided him with a broom, a waste bin, and a shovel. He tried to ignore the horror of having so much mess that he actually needed a shovel to clear it away.

  
"I'm surprised we're not overrun with rats," he muttered. He complained about the task but really enjoyed it. Cleaning was a simple task with immediate, clear results, a problem with a readily available solution.

  
Jonas had been in the castle for about a month at that point. Winter carried on outdoors, dropping another heavy snowfall and ushering in sharp winds that Jonas felt blow all the way into his bones whenever he ventured outside to exercise Bud. At least now Mitch went with him more often than not. Everyday, almost. Sometimes he'd see Jonas shivering and put an arm around his shoulders, and it seemed like every time he did, he pulled Jonas in just a little bit closer.

  
Jonas shook his head. He cleaned so he didn't have to think. That was the whole point of starting with the dining hall: it was the one place Mitch rarely came. Right now he just needed to be Mitchless. Which would be a lot easier if he could clear his thoughts as easily as he could clean the floor.

  
In his frustration he threw down the broom and shovel. "I'll finish later," he said as much to himself as to the castle.

  
He headed to the library. It was where he spent the majority of his time. There was a whole pile of books near the couch where he collected the ones he wanted to read, another pile for what he'd already read.

  
Jonas' stomach flipped when he saw that Mitch was already there, sitting on the couch, flipping through one of the books. He didn't seem to hear Jonas come in.

  
Jonas grinned. Mitch was always teasing him, and this would be the perfect opportunity to get back at him a little. He stepped quietly over.

  
If it were Sidney, he would grab her from behind. He didn't know how Mitch would receive that, though, and Jonas didn't want to make him uncomfortable. By the time he was within reach he thought of something better.

  
In one smooth stroke, he ran his fingers up the back of Mitch's neck. Mitch shivered under the touch. "Feeling frisky today, huh, Spots?"

  
Jonas pursed his lips. "You heard me come in."

  
"Yeah."

  
He looked over Mitch's shoulder at the book he was holding. It was the illustrated guide to ornamental garden flowers. Jonas enjoyed flipping through it and had done so many time, particularly when he was tired of reading but still wanted the comfort of a book. The illustrations were carefully rendered and lavish, clearly done by the skilled hand of someone who genuinely cared about their subject matter. It was open to a page about roses.

  
Mitch shut the book. "Did you finish whatever it was you had to do?"

  
Jonas settled down on the couch. They still sat on opposite ends, though Mitch had a habit of propping his feet up in Jonas' lap. If Jonas didn't entertain him somehow, Mitch would start tapping his paw on Jonas' thigh, or tracing unidentifiable patterns onto Jonas using the tips of his fingers. Jonas would never admit how nice that felt, especially considering the fact that, knowing Mitch, he was probably drawing dicks.

  
Mitch chuckled. "What are you looking so sour faced for all of a sudden?"

  
Jonas looked up, ready to make a quick retort, and noticed the tiredness in Mitch's face. His annoyance quickly turned to sympathy. "You didn't sleep well last night, did you?"

  
Mitch's smile did nothing to ease the shadows around his eyes. "M'fine," he said, even as he ran a hand across the bridge of his nose. When he saw the skeptical look on Jonas' face, he added, "It's been a hard few nights. It'll pass. Don't worry about me."

  
This was part of the reason he had avoided Mitch all morning. Not just that Jonas worried over him, but that Mitch invaded every part of his day. Every morning he hoped to see Mitch waiting for him at Bud's stall, every night he delayed going to bed longer and longer so they could spend more time together. He picked out books he thought Mitch would like, the ones with engaging illustrations and very little text. He never gave the books directly to Mitch but let him find them when he inevitably snooped through Jonas' to-be-read pile. He would then watch Mitch from the corner of his eye, pretending to be absorbed in his own reading, to see whether he liked it. Every time Mitch smiled or seemed engaged with the book, Jonas felt a soft glow in his chest.

  
The moments he shared with Mitch were just undeniably...better.

  
Jonas kicked off his shoes and pulled his feet onto the couch, turning so his whole body faced Mitch. "I do worry about you," he admitted.

  
Mitch frowned. Just as quickly he pulled his mouth up into a smirk and said, "Nerd."

  
Jonas threw the book he was holding at Mitch's head. It missed by a mile. Mitch's laugh was broken off by a long yawn.   
He could pretend all he wanted, but not sleeping was wearing him down. Jonas chewed his lip, deciding something. He held open his arms. "Come here," he said.

  
Mitch hesitated. Jonas felt his own heart pounding. That was the other reason he avoided Mitch, the one he didn't like to admit even to himself: letting someone get close meant taking the risk of them leaving, and that terrified Jonas.

  
"It's okay," he said, reassuring himself as well as Mitch.

  
Mitch took the invitation. He stretched out across the length of the couch. For just a moment he held himself up on his arms, so their faces were level. Jonas thought at first that Mitch meant to kiss him.

  
He wanted to be kissed.

  
Instead Mitch lay his head on Jonas' stomach, his arms wrapping around his middle. Jonas cringed a little inwardly but reminded himself that a round stomach made an excellent pillow if it wasn't good for anything else. "Is this okay?" Mitch asked quietly, voice unsure.

  
Jonas nodded, not trusting his voice. Mitch sighed. Jonas felt the movement throughout his entire body. He felt himself relax, easing into the warmth of Mitch. Once one risk had been taken, it became easier to take another. He stroked the hair on top of Mitch's head even though his hand shook as he did. Mitch sighed again and squeezed himself tighter to Jonas.

  
It didn't take long for Mitch's breathing to even out with sleep. Jonas kept stroking his hair as he reached for the book he kept on the top of the already-read pile. The worn out little copy of fairytales the castle inexplicably gave him his first day there, now further worn by Jonas' own hands and the multiple readings he'd done.

  
He turned to a story with a dogeared page called "The Seven Ravens" and started reading.

  
Jonas got through four more stories before he looked up and noticed the sky outside the windows was dark. The castle had helpfully lit the candelabras around him, casting a warm, friendly glow around the room. Even so his eyes ached from straining to read so long.

  
Mitch was still sleeping. It must have been a few hours at that point. The base of one horn dug uncomfortably into Jonas' stomach. Jonas' leg was starting to cramp.

  
"Mitch," he said softly, to which Mitch only groaned in reply. "If you're going to sleep this long, go to bed and do it properly." Another groan, though this one sounded more awake. "I would pick you up and carry you if I thought I could. Unfortunately it looks like you'll have to walk yourself." The next groan sounded almost like a laugh.

  
Mitch pulled himself up, taking Jonas with him until they were suddenly both on their feet. Jonas actually wasn't sure Mitch was entirely conscious. He was impressed that Mitch was able to find his way to Jonas' room with only a little guidance. They stopped at the door.

  
"'Night, Joey," Mitch mumbled, eyes drooping closed. He stumbled away.

  
Jonas grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Just sleep in here tonight." The words tumbled out. He'd imagined doing this for a while now. In his head Mitch had been awake for the interaction.

  
Mitch's eyes did widen a little more at that. "Y'sure?"

  
Jonas nodded.

  
It was cold enough in the room that Mitch, even with his fur, curled up under the blankets. Jonas wasn't tired but lay down anyway. His nerves were alive with the closeness. He wondered if he could get away with snuggling up to Mitch again. He'd come this far; it seemed like a shame not to at least ask.

  
"Mitch? Can I--Would it be alright if I got a little closer?"

  
Mitch's grin was even dopier when he was half-asleep. "You can get as close as you fucking want, Joey."

  
Luckily for Jonas, Mitch's eyes were shut so he didn't see how Jonas flushed from his ears all the way down his chest and neck. He tucked himself under Mitch's arm and let one hand rest on Mitch's chest. Mitch brought his hand up and laced their fingers together.

  
If he hadn't seen firsthand just how exhausted Mitch had been the past few days, Jonas could have easily convinced himself Mitch was faking to get close to him.

  
He awoke with a jolt a while later. Jonas' confused mind took much too long to process the movement around him as Mitch thrashing around. By the time he caught up, Mitch let out a hoarse cry and the next thing Jonas new they were falling.

  
They hit the floor with a thud. The wind was knocked from Jonas' lungs, so they both sat on the cold stone gasping for air. Mitch struggled against the sheets. Jonas couldn't tell at first if he was aware of what was happening or if he was still sleeping. He also couldn't tell if it was the blankets or Mitch's flailing limbs that kept the two of them tangled together.

  
"Fuck," Mitch muttered. Jonas had never heard him sound so shaken. "S-sorry."

  
Now that Jonas could breath properly again, he said, "It's not your fault. You had a nightmare, right?"

  
Mitch shuddered in response.

  
Jonas worked to untwist the sheets. Mitch still gripped his hand firmly; Jonas didn't think he even realized what he was doing. Either way Jonas let him hold on.

  
"I'm sorry," Mitch repeated, and even though he still shook his voice sounded stronger. He released his grip on Jonas and dropped his face into his hands. "I should go. You don't need to deal with this." He jerked to his feet before Jonas could say a word.

  
He followed Mitch out into the hall. He wore only a nightshirt he found in the wardrobe, which was thin and short. Away from the warmth of the fireplace, the bedcovers, and shared body heat, he was rudely reminded that it was still winter. The cold set his teeth chattering.

  
He had to jog to catch up with Mitch, and by the time he did they were at the top of one of the grand staircases of the entry hall. Mitch seemed to notice Jonas was following him for the first time and stopped. "You should go back to bed, Joey."

  
"I will, as soon as you come with me."

  
Mitch's grin was rueful. Jonas saw him shaking but knew it wasn't from the cold. "You shouldn't have to deal with me. You're too good for this shit. And you need your sleep."

  
Jonas snorted. "And you don't? Mitch, I'm not leaving you when you're like this. I don't know what you need from me right now, but I'll do it, whatever it is."

  
"I..." Mitch swallowed. His breathing was still too fast, and there was a slightly wild look to his eyes, like a trapped animal. His tail flicked restlessly the way a horse's did when it was agitated. He dropped his gaze away from Jonas', like what he asked was shameful. "Can you hold me?" He sounded so small.

  
Jonas didn't hesitate. Mitch was so much taller than him that it felt a little ineffectual. Mitch didn't seem to mind; he buried his face into Jonas' hair, breathing in short, rapid bursts that sent hot air down Jonas' neck. He could feel Mitch shivering, a low thrumming punctuated by occasional, quick spasms that rocked his wiry frame.

  
"Sorry," Mitch said into his hair. "Sorry."

  
Jonas shook his head. "This is not your fault, Mitch. You don't feel bad about this."

  
Mitch's fingers dug into Jonas' back. "Sorry," was all he said. Mitch sank to the ground, his back pressed against the balusters, pulling Jonas into his lap.

  
Jonas rubbed small circles into Mitch's back. He wanted to do more. He asked what he could do, but Mitch just shook his head and pulled him closer. So close that Jonas' body wanted to react, which was not only inconvenient but he felt inappropriate. He like being close to Mitch. They'd have to do it again sometime under better circumstances.

  
They stayed that way until morning. Mitch's breathing eventually slowed, and the shaking faded and stopped. Jonas was tired, so he could only imagine how Mitch must have felt.

  
"How are you doing?" he asked.

  
Mitch made a low humming noise. "Better. Thanks to you." He pressed his face into the top of Jonas' head. Jonas couldn't tell if he imagined the feeling of a soft kiss against his hair. He tilted his head back. Mitch smiled. "You know," he said, "I've imagined keeping you up all night, and this was not how I wanted to do it."

  
Jonas raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Maybe next time." Mitch looked so dumbfounded that Jonas couldn't help but laugh. __

* * *

 

The last few weeks had been encouraging.

  
Well, not including the span of time Mitch couldn't sleep, when he felt so tired he thought his bones would shatter from the weight of sleeplessness. It happened like that sometimes: one bad night would spurn another, until an entire week had passed without peace. In the past he'd had no choice but to endure it, each nightmare, each night, until his mind settled just enough to let him rest.

  
This time was different. Mitch still had to endure it, only now he wasn't alone.

  
The nights he did wake up wearing the terror that chased him through his dreams, Jonas was there, holding him, rubbing soothing circles across his back, gripping his hand like a tether to the waking world, and murmuring soothing words in his ear.

  
It was one night when Jonas was holding him, letting Mitch press his face into his soft belly while stroking his head. As the sweat dried under his fur and made him feel grimy and feverish, as he tried to relax away the muscle cramps and headache, Mitch looked up at Jonas. He took in Jonas' freckles, his soft, greenish eyes, the way his lashes fluttered as he fought off sleep. He looked down at Mitch and smiled. Not a smile of happiness, necessarily, but one that said, I'm here, I care.

  
That was the moment Mitch realized he was hopelessly in love.

  
He shouldn't have been so startled by the realization. He'd wanted to fuck Jonas senseless from the very begin, to kiss and hold him ever since then. Not to mention that the more time they spent together, the more Mitch got the indistinct sense of having found something he'd long ago given up hope of recovering.

  
Yeah, loving Jonas made sense. And while it fucking sucked--not knowing if Jonas could ever feel the same way, what the hell Mitch would even do if he did, the way both those things made him miserable in distinctly different ways--he also couldn't help but walk around like a giddy moron. Once the nightmares finally passed a few days later, anyway.

  
For a few days afterwards he felt wounded and raw. In that time Jonas was so gentle with him that if Mitch weren't sure he was in love before, he was now.

  
Then a couple more weeks went by, and it got easier to touch Jonas. Every time he reached out and Jonas didn't brush him away or even leaned into the touch, Mitch felt a little bit braver, a little more certain.

  
One day as they sat it the library, Mitch flipped through a book Jonas had recently finished--and not liked if his speed was any indication. When Jonas liked a book he tended to keep it for longer. Like he wanted to savor it.

  
Deciding this one was nothing important, Mitch ripped out a page, balled it up, and tossed it towards the fireplace. It missed, bouncing off the mantle and rolling sadly across the floor. He tried with another.

  
Jonas looked horrified. "What are you doing?"

  
Mitch missed again. "What?" he said innocently. "You were done with it anyway."

  
"That doesn't mean you should destroy it!"

  
Mitch tossed a third crumpled page. Missed. Damn. He laughed as Jonas lunged for the book, which Mitch easily held out of his reach. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, Joey." He was hoping he could lure Jonas into his lap.

  
Jonas swatted at him, eyebrows furrowed but mouth smiling. Mitch leaned back, tempting Jonas to come closer. Jonas put one hand on Mitch's shoulder to brace himself and made a grab for the book. When Mitch put his hand on Jonas' hip to steady him the smile dissolved. Jonas sat back, relinquishing his fight to save the book.

  
Mitch frowned, tossing the book onto the floor in favor of giving his full attention to Jonas. "What's wrong?"

  
Jonas shook his head lightly. "It's nothing."

  
"It's not nothing. I may not be the smartest guy around but even I can tell when there's something bothering you. And you would tell me that keeping it in only makes it worse, so why don't you give yourself the same treatment?"

  
Jonas sat back further, retreating to the opposite end of the couch. Mitch didn't like the sudden distance between them, but if that was what Jonas needed right now he was more than willing to give it. Jonas pulled his knees up to his chest.

"It's...embarrassing."

  
If he really didn't want to talk, maybe Mitch shouldn't push him. "Don't force yourself," he said, self-conscious, wondering if what was bothering Jonas was him.

  
Jonas sighed. "I just...I know I'm not exactly..." Mitch couldn't tell if he was struggling to find the word or to say it. "I know I'm fat."

  
"And that's...a bad thing?" Under Mitch's surprise and confusion a ball of anger bloomed. He could see where this was going and had a pretty good guess who was responsible.

  
"Yeah," Jonas said, like it was obvious. "Dean always got on me about it. I tried...you know, walking to town instead of taking the horses, or picking up more chores, but..." He shrugged. His eyes watered and he stared down at the couch, refusing to meet Mitch's gaze. Like he was talking about something he needed to be ashamed of.

  
Fucking Dean. Jonas told him about his adoptive father on several occasions.

  
Mitch didn't need to meet him to know he hated the man.

  
A growl rose in his throat. "Jonas." Jonas' head snapped up. Mitch didn't think he'd ever called Jonas by his actual name before. "Whatever that fucker said to make you think you were anything less than perfect is bullshit."

  
Jonas looked even sadder than before though he smiled softly. "You don't have to say that, you know. I've come to terms with the fact that I just am the way I am. It just reminds me of some bad stuff, is all. I never fit in with the other boys in town, and I know how much of a disappointment that was to Dean. He never let me forget it." His eyes pinched around the corners. Mitch's anger sharpened when he realized Jonas was fighting back tears. "I think he wouldn't have cared so much about the lack of friends or hunting skills if I had been stronger, more fit, smaller. Maybe. I guess I don't know." He hugged his knees in tighter like he thought he could make himself physically smaller if he just held on tightly enough.

  
Mitch didn't reach out to Jonas, no matter how much he wanted to. The focus didn't need to be about him right now. He needed Jonas to hear what he was going to say without the distraction of thinking about Mitch. He only lifted Jonas' face with a soft touch under his chin. "There is not a goddamn thing you need to change about yourself. If you could see yourself the way I do..." He laughed, breathlessly. "You're so hot, Joey. Every little bit of you, every curve, every line, every single freckle. Just as you are. Because you are who you are. You. Are. Fucking. Beautiful."

  
Mitch clamped his mouth shut. He felt he had crossed a line. But it was impossible to backtrack after saying something like that. No more pretending his flirting was just harmless teasing. They stared at each other in wide-eyed silence. There was no difference between a blush of shame and one in a fluster, yet Mitch felt the difference when he looked at Jonas. Whether he'd embarrassed himself or not, that at least was an improvement.

  
Mitch looked away and cleared his throat. "So, do you want me to go now? I can just show myself out." He laughed the most uncomfortable laugh ever laughed in the history of man or beast.

  
He heard Jonas move and looked up to see him crawl over the couch. He pulled himself into Mitch's lap, resting one hand on Mitch's shoulder and taking Mitch's hand into the other. He placed Mitch's hand on his hip, right on the swell of stomach above his pants.

  
Mitch was so taken aback by this unexpected turn of events that he sat frozen for a moment. He wanted to run his hands all over Jonas, followed quickly by his mouth. Putting his thoughts back into order felt like dragging something heavy up from a deep well. This was about Jonas, he reminded himself, not his own desires.

  
"Are you sure?" he whispered. "You don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. Anything you don't want to do."

  
Jonas squeezed Mitch's hand before letting go and wrapping both arms around Mitch's neck. His eyes still shimmered, and Mitch could only hope it was from something other than sadness. "I want you to touch me." His voice low and vulnerable, his eyes searching Mitch's, his breath on Mitch's neck. Never in all the years of his curse did he want more to discard his fur, to have naked skin once more with no impediment between him and Jonas.

  
Though Mitch's fur and Jonas' shirt still separated them, Mitch could feel the shape of Jonas underneath. He could feel the heat of his skin and the slight shiver that ran through him as Mitch began to move his fingers with a touch that was asking nothing. Jonas closed his eyes and leaned his forehead onto Mitch's collarbone, his shallow breaths teasing around Mitch's neck.

  
Mitch moved slowly. If he felt Jonas tense he stopped. He'd stay in that area for a while, using only the lightest of caresses until Jonas relaxed again. They were doing nothing more than when Jonas rubbed Mitch's back to comfort him, yet it felt so intimate that Mitch thought he might cry with joy and desperation. He wanted more yet also felt so overwhelmed by what was happening. Not to mention the fact that now Jonas' hands tentatively explored him as well: brushing over the ridges of his shoulders, down his arms, back up his arms, across his shoulder blades, playing at the base of his neck. The tiniest part of Mitch's brain that was screaming, DON'T TOUCH, was thankfully silenced by the much more insistent part of him aching for more.

  
He trailed his fingers under the hem of Jonas' shirt. His voice was husky when he asked, "Can I--"

  
Jonas cut him off with a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. "Yes." He pulled his shirt up himself, probably only meaning to move it out of the way but succeeding in yanking it so hard two buttons came undone. Mitch moved his hands over Jonas' stomach and hips and chest. Jonas' body was soft, and his skin was even softer. How was this boy even real?

  
"You're killing me, Spots," he growled, not in anger for once.

  
Jonas laughed. "I hope not. I'd miss you."

  
Mitch couldn't take it anymore. He pulled back, forcing Jonas to lean back and look up at him.

  
Mitch was going to kiss him. There would be no interruptions this time. No innkeepers popping in, no inanimate-object friends swinging open the door at the worst possible moment--since Mitch may or may not have threatened their lives if they ever bothered him while he was alone with Jonas. They were completely alone, both flushed and shivering. Mitch leaned forward slowly until their faces were inches apart. He carefully searched Jonas for any sign of distress.

  
Jonas didn't pull away. He leaned forward to meet Mitch.

  
They were kissing. Small and hesitant and questioning and soft at first, but soon it deepened with burning urgency. At once sweet and hungry, calming and fervid. Mitch thought he felt Jonas crying, which might have worried him if not for the fact that when he pulled back to check, Jonas gave a small cry of protest. There were tears running down his cheeks but his lips were parted and waiting, his hands on the back of Mitch's head an gentle request.

  
Mitch grinned his sleaziest grin and dove back in, lips still pulled up as he peppered Jonas' face and neck with kisses, zeroing in on the freckles he'd had his eye on since that first night they met.

  
Mitch couldn't remember when they lay down--it seemed more likely to him that they'd both dissolved onto the couch. He tangled his fingers in Jonas' curls. Though every touch was laced with eagerness he took extra care to stay gentle when touching Jonas' body.

  
Eventually he pulled back, hovering over Jonas while they both took a second to breathe deeply. To his everlasting delight Jonas looked disappointed, his hands grasping at Mitch's shoulders, like a invitation that he should come back down for more. Mitch indulged in one more deep kiss before sitting up. Jonas pouted. Mitch laughed and leaned back in.

  
The library was quickly becoming his favorite place in the castle.

* * *

 

Kissing led to more kissing. Jonas was afraid things might be awkward afterward, and while there were a few moments when he felt at a loss for what to do, like there was a certain way he should be behaving, mostly it just felt like...them. Now with kissing. Kind of like it was what they should have been doing all along.

  
Now that Mitch had touched him, Jonas found himself craving it. Luckily for him Mitch had no problem complying. He never in his wildest dreams imagined enjoying someone licking him, but the first time Mitch ran his tongue down Jonas' jaw and throat, he couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Of course Mitch loved that, prompting him to repeat the action whenever he thought Jonas least expected it to draw out another moan. The cycle never ended.

  
Jonas didn't want it to end.

  
In fact, the further they explored each other, the further Jonas wanted to go. It got to the point that they often had to excuse themselves from each other to take care of...things. Until one day it occurred to Jonas how much better it could be if instead they took care of each other.

  
He was so embarrassed by that train of thought that he couldn't look at Mitch for an entire afternoon.

  
Only slightly less embarrassing were the marks Mitch loved to leave all over Jonas' body. He would suck and nip and tease, favoring Jonas' neck and chest but eventually venturing to his stomach and thighs. Mitch purposefully left them in visible places, which Jonas didn't really notice until the first time he hung out with Javier and Scratch again. Javier laughed and just said, "Bro," while shaking his head. Scratch jumped up and down and squealed. Only Cliff's reaction bothered him. Sitting in the corner, he radiated contempt. It threatened to burst the happily little bubble Jonas had found for himself, so he chose to ignore Cliff completely.

  
Alone with Mitch, the most annoyed Jonas got was realizing that even if he found a way to return the favor and nip at Mitch's skin, any mark on Mitch wasn't visible under his fur.

  
Sometimes Mitch got self-conscious about his beastly features even though the only thing that ever actually got in the way was the fur. His fangs they hardly noticed, and Jonas secretly thought it was endearing the way his tail swished lazily back and forth when he was excited. In a bold moment, Jonas even gripped onto Mitch's horns to bring him in closer. Discovering the ways he could make Mitch growl with pleasure became Jonas' favorite new pastime.

  
Amidst all the kissing they still managed to go about their daily lives. A little more than once a week Mitch disappeared at night. At first Jonas worried he was struggling with his nightmares again and didn't want to bother Jonas, until one night when he happened to look out the window to see Mitch crossing the castle grounds, towards the forest.

  
It was one such night when Jonas found himself restless. He'd gotten so used to sleeping together with Mitch that with him gone, Jonas found it strange to sleep alone. He tried reading for a while but found his mind kept wandering. Maybe he would feel better if his body wandered along with it.

  
In some strange way Jonas trusted the castle. Despite what happened the first time he let it lead him to Mitch, he felt safe letting it take him where it wanted. He kept his book with him, more out of habit than anything.

  
He found himself going up a staircase. At this point he barely questioned whether it was odd, considering he'd been under the impression that the bedroom he and Mitch slept in was on the top floor, and he was only briefly surprised to open the door and find himself outside on a balcony. The night air in that time between winter and spring had a certain quality to it he found refreshing, so he stepped out into the semi-darkness.

  
The light of the stars bounced softly off the remnants of snow. He figured they'd gotten their last snowfall for the year. The first hints of warmth floated through the air and would soon melt what was left.

  
It was a beautiful night. He couldn't help but wish Mitch was with him.

  
As if summoned, a figure appeared from the woods. It was the movement that caught Jonas' eye. He enjoyed the moment of watching Mitch without him realizing. He'd noticed over the months that Mitch acted differently around him than with his friends. Apart from the kissing. Mitch put on a tough exterior with them; even Javier, with whom he seemed closest. If he didn't know better, Jonas would think Mitch was just a mean person. A bully.

  
Like now. Even from a distance he could see the almost angry way Mitch moved. In someone he didn't know Jonas would find this trait worrisome.

  
Far from being put off, the idea that Mitch had shown Jonas a private, tender part of himself made Jonas feel mushy.

  
Jonas turned his head but continued to watch Mitch from the corner of his eye. If Mitch needed space for what he did in the woods Jonas would give it to him. He'd be there, whenever Mitch needed to talk about it. He thought he saw Mitch look up at him and pause just as he was about to enter the castle. Jonas was careful not to move, not give any indication that he took notice. Mitch disappeared.

  
For a while after that Jonas waited, enjoying the silence. He honestly didn't think Mitch would come, so when a pair of hands wrapped around his waist he jumped.

  
"I didn't think you'd still be up," Mitch murmured into his ear, resting his head on Jonas' shoulder.

  
"I couldn't sleep." He debated ending it there. Then he smiled, leaned back into Mitch's arms, and added, "It feels weird now when you're not there." He only felt a little bashful.

  
He felt Mitch's face press into his neck and felt Mitch's smile as he pressed soft kisses there. The sweetness of it was almost overwhelming, even with Mitch's hand lightly squeezing his ass.

  
"Pervert."

  
"You like it."

  
Jonas turned and went in for a kiss. Mitch pulled back. The rejection was a surprise not only because in the month since they'd become intimate, it had never happened, but also because Mitch's hands were still on him pulling him closer even as he leaned away. Jonas was more confused than hurt. "Is everything alright?"

  
"Yeah, just...maybe not right now?"

  
Jonas gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah. I was just up here enjoying the night. It's nearly spring, you know." He leaned back against the low wall surrounding the balcony.

  
Mitch pointed to the forgotten book sitting on the wall beside Jonas. "Reading?" He picked it up and examined the cover. "You read this one a lot," he commented. "Is it your favorite?"

  
It was the little book of fairytales with its scarred cover and worn pages. Jonas didn't want to lie but didn't want to tell Mitch his reason for pouring over that particular book. So he just shrugged.

  
For a while they stood together in silence. Jonas breathed in the stars. There was another scent on the air, something bitter that he couldn't quite place. Mitch noticed him inhaling as he tried to identify it and shifted away.

  
Jonas studied him. The set of his jaw, the downcast of his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders. Jonas recognized shame when he saw it, and it physically pained him to see it in Mitch. "So," he ventured, "you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but I just wanted you to know that...whatever you do in the woods, you don't have to keep it hidden from me. You can if it makes you more comfortable, but it won't bother me if you want to talk about it."

  
"Joey..."

  
Jonas didn't fill the silence. He was beginning to wonder if he should have said anything after all when Mitch took his hand. "I don't want you to regret...I don't want you to be disgusted by me."

  
"Mitch, nothing about you disgusts me." Jonas held up a finger. "Wait, no, I take that back. That thing you do where you crack your knuckles and your back? Yeah, ugh." He cringed at the thought.

  
Mitch's look of alarm turned into a laughed. "Fucking hell, Joey, you scared me there for a second." He brought their intwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Jonas' hand. Whenever he performed a romantic gesture that wasn't wholly physical, Mitch glanced up at Jonas, unsure and flustered. Jonas found it infinitely endearing. Mitch shrugged. "It's stupid, I know."

  
"No, it isn't. It's never stupid to worry about things." Jonas worried all the time that one day Mitch would wake up and realize Jonas wasn't actually all that great. That Mitch would leave him. He worried he'd misunderstood somewhere along the way and would wake up one day to realize that while he was busy falling for Mitch his feelings weren't returned. Most importantly, he worried about what happened next. As much as the dawning spring brought with it a feeling of hope, Jonas worried what it meant for them.

  
Mitch was watching him. "You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now."

  
Jonas grinned. "So kiss me."

  
Mitch's hands trailed up Jonas' arms, around his back, across his shoulders. Like he just couldn't help himself. "I cleaned up as best as I could but..." He shrugged.

  
"Kiss me," Jonas said again.

  
When Mitch leaned in, Jonas smelled alcohol and iron on his breath. The kiss tasted like beer and blood. He couldn't lie and say it was the most pleasant sensation. Even so, Jonas' heart soared. He pressed in tighter, opening his mouth to let Mitch in.

  
Mitch lifted him a little higher on the wall. Jonas remained dimly aware that behind him was open air and a very long drop if he fell. He felt so safe. Mitch wouldn't let anything happen to him.

  
He wrapped his legs around Mitch, using his whole body to pull them closer together. While Mitch worried the skin at his neck, Jonas focused on the way it felt to have Mitch pressed against him, his hardness pressed against Jonas' thigh, rubbing with every move they made. Jonas shifted until both their hard-ons rubbed together instead.

  
Mitch's eyes were hazy, like he struggled to understand if what was happening was real or a dream. He rocked his hips forward. Jonas moaned. Mitch tugged gently at the button of Jonas' pants. "Can I?"

  
"Please," Jonas groaned into Mitch's chest, and if he weren't so hungry to be touched he might have been a little embarrassed by how needy he sounded.

  
Mitch grinned sadistically. "Are you sure? We could take it a little slower." It was a joke that carried a serious undertone, double-checking for permission.

  
"Mitch," Jonas whined. "I want you."

  
Mitch laughed again and dragged his tongue lazily up Jonas' neck, pausing to nibble at his ear. He guided Jonas' hand down to cup the bulge in his pants. "Go ahead," he urged in a whisper that tickled Jonas' neck and sent a shudder down his spine. "You can have as much of me as you want, Joey, for as long as you want."

  
Mitch let out a little hiss as the cold air hit his hot skin, but Jonas' shaking hand was already there, inexperienced and unsure but highly enthusiastic. Jonas didn't understand how Mitch managed to hold him up and wrap his hand around Jonas' erection at the same time. He didn't have time to marvel at it. He had to focus on what he was doing. And on not fainting, which seemed like a real risk the way his head was spinning.

  
The whole thing was messy jerking, more frantic than skilled. It was every bit as wonderful as Jonas had spent the last weeks imagining. He came a few seconds before Mitch, his whole body rocking with his orgasm. He threw his head back and cried out, though whether it was an unintelligible sound or Mitch's name he couldn't be sure. Mitch took advantage of his position to kiss the base of his bared throat, so shockingly tender that it brought tears to Jonas' eyes. Jonas could barely concentrate enough to keep his hand moving. Mitch felt him falter and covered Jonas' hand with his own and with a few quick thrusts he came, too, groaning deeply into Jonas' skin.

  
"Jonas," Mitch murmured, nuzzling his face across Jonas' chest.

  
If Jonas didn't feel so completely boneless and spent, he would have begged for more. He wanted Mitch to go further and to whisper his name again, just like that.

  
Mitch rubbed their cocks together as they rode out their high. The warmth and softness and slickness of Mitch pressed against him was almost unbearable. When Mitch pulled back, he wiped himself clean before kneeling and dragging his tongue over Jonas, who was soft but wouldn't be for long if Mitch kept that up.

  
"Mitch," he said, finding his voice hoarse. How loud had he been, exactly?

  
Mitch finished and tucked Jonas away, kissed the small strip of skin exposed beneath Jonas' rumpled shirt, and moved in for a proper kiss.

  
Even wrapped in the glow he felt, Jonas couldn't escape the worry in the back of his mind any more than he could escape the impending spring. He couldn't escape the fact that he had to go back to Sellwood. Even though he knew they'd both have to face it soon, for tonight, the only thing Jonas wanted to think about was Mitch.

* * *

 

The last of the snow melted and a few warm days brought the plants to life. Jonas let Bud wander the grounds freely in search of grass until he wandered too far and got stuck in what turned out to be a garden. Mitch helped Jonas free the silly animal, who'd gotten behind a wall and then forgotten how to get back out. It was a nice day, so they decided to stay and explore a bit. Mitch would be lying if he said he wasn't daydreaming about a garden sex-party--despite the fact that for all they'd done he and Jonas hadn't quite made it to the sex part yet. Not that Mitch was complaining. Since the night on the rooftop, he and Jonas had gotten closer. Much closer. Closer than he'd ever dreamed he'd get. He was looking for a soft spot they could roll around on but eventually even he was curious to see all the different flowers, inexplicably large even though the weather had only just turned inviting enough for plants.

  
"What did you say these plants were? Ornaments?" He poked his paw at a bright green shoot.

  
Jonas was beaming. He really enjoyed things like gardens, the little nerd. "Ornamental. Things that don't serve a purpose other than to be pretty."

  
"Ah." Many of the plants were already blooming.

  
"I wonder if this garden was enchanted like the castle?" Jonas wondered aloud, examining something with round bunches of purple flowers. "It's too early for so much of this stuff to be blooming naturally. Can the castle reach this far? If it can cook maybe it can grow a garden."

  
"Right." Mitch couldn't help his distraction. Maybe Mitch just wasn't used to good things happening to him, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Jonas wanted to tell him something and that that something wouldn't be good. Whenever he tried to bring it up, Mitch swooped in to divert him. By the end they'd both forgotten it entirely.

  
Only for a while.

  
Mitch knew what Jonas was thinking. It was spring, and his family needed him to help with their farm. Jonas would go, even though his fucker dad would never appreciate him and would probably be furious Jonas had disappeared for so long. Because he was good like that. He missed his sister.

  
He had a girl and a chance at a normal life and Mitch had no right to keep him from that.

  
No matter how much he wanted to. What did Mitch have to offer? A decrepit castle filled with three cursed people, plus himself.

  
He could tell Jonas he loved him.

  
No. Jonas leaving was killing him, but Jonas rejecting him would break him.

  
He stood in front of a tangled bush covered in thorns, interspersed with bright red flowers. He recognized it immediately from one of Jonas' books. He felt oddly hollow as he said, "Hey, Joey. I found a rose."

  
Jonas joined him in staring down at the flower. "Oh," was all he said.

  
Mitch took a deep breath. "Spots, if you're ready to go home, just say so and I'll take you."

  
Jonas blinked up at him, surprised. Maybe a little guilty? "I...what?"

  
"I--" He should say it now. _I love you._ "I want you to be happy. And if that means you need to leave now, I'll understand. I'll be okay." He wouldn't. He doubted he'd ever fully recover from letting Jonas go. But he'd rather suffer knowing Jonas was happy than to be the one to make him miserable.

  
Jonas smiled, one of those soft smiles that melted Mitch but currently made him ache. Then he said the last thing Mitch expected to hear: "What if staying with you is what will make me happy?"

  
Mitch gulped. He couldn't believe his ears. He also couldn't stop himself from scooping Jonas up into his arms and kissing him. Jonas giggled.

  
Maybe when they got to Sellwood and Jonas saw his sister and...whoever else he would change his mind. Maybe he didn't want to spoil the ending of their fling with goodbyes just yet. Maybe he meant what he said and he wanted to stay with Mitch.

  
Until the moment came to let him go, Mitch would hold onto Jonas with everything he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts while writing this:  
> 1) it took all my willpower not to refer to the events of the last chapter the inn-cident  
> 2) a back and forth of 'have I gone too far' and 'take it further'  
> 3) i listened to Amy Lee's "Love Exists" on repeat while writing the balcony scene  
> 4) i make Jonas cry a lot because i, too, often cry  
> 5) there is no not-embarrassing way to refer to a sexually active penis in fanfiction  
> 6) if you want to laugh, have your app read your sex scene out loud in a British lady's voice  
> 7) i'm having too much fun with this i need to be stopped


	12. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my absence. Last week was weird.   
> All the good stuff here belongs to Mars. If you somehow ended up here without reading Long Exposure, go, do it.   
> If you're here even though you're not really a BatB fan, I recommend the new French film version (on Netflix so long as you can do subtitles). It stays more true to the original fairytale, is skewed more for adults, and does not have singing teapots. In case singing's not your...cup of tea.

Seeing Sellwood again after nearly five months away was strange. Jonas had expected to feel sad or longing or at the very least nostalgic. He felt nothing. Except excitement to see Sidney. He still hadn't come up with a plan of what he was going to say to her. He was relieved to know he didn't really need one; Sidney was his twin and had a habit of knowing what he needed to say without necessarily needing him to say it.

  
Though he wondered if this was a special case. After all, it wasn't everyday he disappeared into the forest only to return months later with a cursed man in tow, a man he was...courting? Was that right?

  
Maybe it'd be best if he skipped over that part for now.

  
They'd both ridden Bud through the woods. Mitch stayed on high alert though he claimed the wolves moved on during the spring and summer months, following herds of prey animals. There were probably other just as dangerous creatures hidden amongst the trees, not to mention hunters once they got close to town. The entire journey they saw nothing but a few scared rabbits.

  
Though Jonas felt a little sick to his stomach at the idea of seeing Sidney, he wasn't afraid. Mitch was a comforting presence behind him, solid and warm. He held Jonas tighter than was necessary considering they moved at a brisk walk. At first Jonas thought it was a little funny; Mitch was afraid of heights and terrible at riding horses, and it was nice to see his touch facade crumble to reveal something so innocent.

  
But as the day progressed he noticed the soft touch of Mitch's face against his shoulder and the way Mitch's hands weren't just gripping but pulling at Jonas, his grip tightening incrementally until Sellwood was in sight through the trees. Then all at once Mitch released him.

  
Jonas reeled at the loss. He wanted to put Mitch's hands back around him but paused. That was one thing he continued to feel unsure about in their relationship: figuring out exactly how much he could ask for without seeming needy. Particularly when it came to physical things. It was even more confusing since Mitch was usually the one taking the lead in that area.

  
Jonas thought of ways he could improve on that as the house came into view. They sat, hidden in the trees, and waited.

  
Jonas didn't know who would come into sight first. One of the kids maybe, or even Sue or Dean. The door opened and there was Sidney.

  
She was alive. Jonas had convinced himself that there was no way she wouldn't be, but of course there had always been a little tickle of doubt in his heart. She looked the same as ever, except maybe for the dark smudges under her eyes and the little frown engraved on her mouth. Jonas almost ran at her right then. Instead he crouched lower down into his hiding place behind a fallen tree and some shrubby bushes while he double- and triple-checked that no one else was around. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a light touch brushed his hand. He realized it was only Mitch, who gave him a small reassuring smile.

  
Jonas nodded. "Wait here," he whispered. Mitch didn't release his hand right away. He looked more afraid than Jonas felt, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. It didn't exactly inspire confidence. When Mitch released his hold it was reluctantly, only after Jonas scrambled over the log.

  
As he thought, any plans Jonas might have made abandoned him in the moment Sidney heard him approaching and looked up, her eyes shifting from angry to confused to unbelieving. She didn't hesitate to run at him, and he had no time to brace himself as she flung herself at him. They toppled into a heap on the ground.

  
"Jonas!" she screamed. "Oh my--How--" She squeezed the life out of him.

  
He cried and buried his face into her shoulder. "You're okay," he said, over and over. "I was so afraid..." They couldn't help talking over one another.

  
"The wolves...I tried to go back to look for you but the wolves and the snow and...Dean." Bitterness laced her voice. She pulled Jonas back to look him over. "But you're okay? You're really here?"

  
He nodded. "And you're okay. I've been so worried." A shuddering sob racked his body.

  
Sidney snorted. "I've just been here. Where have you been? It's been months, Jonas." Her voice sounded just a shade away from stern.

  
"It's a long story."

  
"I've got time."

  
"Oh. And there's one more thing." Jonas took a deep breath. This was the hard part. "There's someone I need you to meet."

  
Jonas could see the way Sidney was instantly back on guard, her eyes searching the farmyard even as she asked, "Someone? What are you talking about? Did you befriend a lone hunter out in the forest, Jojo?"

  
Jonas laughed. "Actually, kind of."

  
Jonas led the way back to the place where Mitch waited. Only Mitch wasn't where he'd left him. Jonas felt a spike of wild panic. Mitch wouldn't have just left, right? "Mitch?" he called.

  
A shadow stepped out from behind a tree a little further into the forest. Jonas let out a sigh of relief and pulled Sidney towards it. He ignored the way his heart thudded, for so many reasons he couldn't begin to sort them all out.

  
Mitch had the hood of his cloak drawn low over his face. Jonas didn't need to see his face to recognize the tension in the way Mitch stood, the casual way he leaned against the tree too stiff, the slight flutter of his cloak from the twitching of his hidden tail, the way his fingers dug in tight to his crossed arms.

  
Sidney, too, was obviously uncomfortable with this turn of events. She pulled back on Jonas' hands, a silent warning not to go further. He stopped just long enough to tell her to stay put as he closed the rest of the distance to Mitch. Now that he could see under the hood he noticed the intense frown on Mitch's face. Jonas grabbed his hand. "Smile," he murmured encouragingly. Mitch bared his teeth in an expression halfway between a grimace and a snarl. Jonas laughed. Mitch's face relaxed a little, the smile melting until it looked almost real.

  
Sidney waited, her face wary. Her eyes darted from Jonas' and Mitch's joined hands up to Mitch's hood. Her eyes narrowed. One of the things Jonas had always loved about her was that even in a situation like this, Sidney kept a calm demeanor. If he didn't know her quite so well he might say she seemed entirely unfazed. Jonas admired it, though he did wish her careful gaze wasn't currently trained on Mitch.

  
When he stopped Jonas was careful to keep himself between the two of them. "Mitch, this is Sidney." It felt like such an important moment, introducing Mitch to his twin. Jonas kind of wished the two of them would stop ruining it by glaring at each other.

  
Jonas nudged Mitch, who sighed. "Hi," he said. Unfortunately it came out accompanied by a growl. Jonas hoped Sidney would just think Mitch had a raspy voice.

  
No such luck. Alarm written across her face, Sidney reached for Jonas and tried to pull him behind her. He held his ground, so she changed tactic. "Hi. It's rude to greet someone with your hood pulled, you know."

  
This time there was no mistaking the growl. "Is that right? Okay, then." He jerked his hood back.

  
Sidney blanched. Her grip on Jonas tightened, then all at once she'd pulled him out of Mitch's grasp. This did not please Mitch. Jonas suspected that if it had been anyone else but Sidney--who he'd spent the entire walk to Sellwood talking about and who looked shockingly similar to Jonas--Mitch might have lunged for them.

  
"Jonas," Sidney said, urging him to back away.

  
"Sid, Mitch is my...friend." This was clearly not the best time to get into the semantics of their relationship. "He's cursed, and he's nice."

  
Mitch snorted. "No one's ever called me that before," he muttered.

  
Sidney let out a bark of laughter. "That's reassuring."

  
Jonas shushed Mitch and turned his attention back to his sister. "He saved me from the wolves, Sid."

  
Sidney softened a little at that. Only a little. She finally turned her gaze away from Mitch and began searching Jonas' face. "Then why have you been gone so long?"

  
Jonas didn't know how to even begin to explain. Mitch spoke up instead. "He's been keeping me company," he said, and though his voice had dropped back to its lazy drawl Jonas could still taste the tension in the air. "Joey here was just being kind."

  
It was an easy lie, one that clearly pacified Sydney. Even so, something about it didn't sit well with Jonas. Even less so because Mitch refused to meet his look.

  
He broke away from Sidney and forced Mitch to look at him. "I was not being kind." Which felt strange to say yet he thought Mitch understood.

  
Mitch reached out and ruffled his hair, letting his hand linger just a moment too long.

  
Sidney looked between the two of them. "Um, Jojo? What's going on?"

  
Mitch stepped past Jonas towards her. Some of the ease found its way back into his step. "Joey said you two were twins, but I wasn't expecting you to look so much alike. You're like a little clone."

  
"Okay, then," Sidney frowned. "Could you give me a minute alone with my brother?"

  
Mitch shrugged. "I'll be right over there," he told Jonas.

  
This was going about as well as expected.

  
"Jonas," Sidney said quietly once Mitch was out of sight, "what's going on here? I get it that you wanted me to meet the guy who saved you and all, but it seems like there's more to it than that. Not to mention I have about a million other questions. Starting with, WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL."

  
"I know. But I don't have a lot of time." He took a deep breath to steady himself. This was Sidney: his twin, his constant companion for the majority of their lives. She'd understand. So long as she could bring herself not to be furious with him, anyway. "I'm not staying. I'm going back. With Mitch."

  
There was an uncomfortably long pause in which Sidney stared at him. A couple of times it looked like she was about to say something and decided against it. She grabbed his hand and backtracked until they came to the fallen log. She pulled him down onto it. "Okay," she said. "Start from the beginning and tell me everything."

  
He told her almost everything. The only parts he left out involved the exact level of intimacy he'd reached with Mitch. Still, Jonas felt he wasn't lying, because it was impossible to tell the story of the last five months without conveying some of his relationship with Mitch even if the way he presented it only showed it as an intensely unlikely friendship, which was more a half-truth than an outright lie.

  
Sidney listened quietly until the very end. Only after he'd finished did she say, "You've changed."

  
Jonas laughed. "I just told you that I've been living in an enchanted castle with a bunch of cursed people and that's what you say?"

  
Sidney ignored him. Her voice was soft when she answered. "You have. You act like this big weight's been lifted off you. It doesn't surprise me; Dean's always been so much harsher on you, and I know how much that can take it's toll." She looked at him curiously. "But it's more than that. It's him, isn't it?"

  
Jonas blushed deeply. Even with his embarrassment, he couldn't help smiling. "I know it probably doesn't seem to make much sense to you, but...yeah."

  
Sidney shook her head. "It doesn't make sense. But if it makes you this happy? I say do it. Run off into the woods and live happily ever after, Jojo." She ruffled his hair with both her hands. "Just make sure you come and visit me, okay?"

  
He brushed her hands away. "Or you could come with me."

  
She snorted. "Now there's an idea."

  
"I'm serious, Sid. Why not?" Jonas felt so close to getting everything he could possibly want. "If you don't want to live at the castle, there's this town, where Mitch grew up. It's practically a city, you should have seen it. And the best part is it's right by the ocean." He could see she was intrigued so he kept talking, telling her about the sights and smells and winding streets. He tried to let the excitement he'd felt seeing the sea drip from his words. "Oh," he paused as another thought occurred to him. "I have go back there soon, anyway."

  
Sidney's tone dripped with suspicion. "Why?"

  
He was so close to convining her, and was worried that what he had to say next might jeapardize that. Yet he also knew Sidney; she wouldn't let it slide if she found out he'd lied about this. "That's were the enchantress lives. I've been reading this book of fairytales that the castle gave me. And I think I figured out how to break Mitch's curse."

* * *

 

Jonas and his sister were talking for a long time. Mitch stood beside Bud, running his fingers through the horse's fur until the big animal nodded off. From their distance Mitch could see the twins and could just make out the cadence of their voices without making out any of their words. He didn't want to eavesdrop.

  
Not only because he wanted to give Jonas his privacy, but also because Mitch found it impossible to shake the pit of worry gnawing at his stomach. No matter how many times Jonas reassured him that he wanted to stay at the castle, Mitch wouldn't stop worrying until he had Jonas home with him. Preferably in a highly compromising position.

  
Mitch knew he was worried when he couldn't even summon a proper dirty daydream. He huffed in frustration.

  
He drummed his hands against his thighs as he grew more and more restless. His thoughts swung violently between convincing him he was about to lose Jonas and that Jonas really would decide to stay with him. Somehow both options seemed equally unfathomable.

  
He watched Jonas with his sister. They looked shockingly similar but Mitch easily picked out the differences. Not just in their appearances but in their attitudes, like the way Sidney took up space more comfortably than Jonas, or the way his expressions were softer and hers more flat. Mitch was caught halfway between hope and heartbreak and every second was agonizing.

  
Finally Jonas and Sidney stood up. Mitch tried not to look overeager, especially with the way Sidney was watching him, with an almost appraising look. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly Jonas had said to her.

  
Jonas at least looked happy. So no matter what he decided, Mitch would support it. He'd try. When Sidney let go of Jonas and made her way back to the house without so much as a goodbye, Mitch felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Jonas must have decided to stay after all. Mitch couldn't blame him.

  
And yet.

  
Mitch fought down the words that would beg Jonas to stay with him. He crossed his arms like that could somehow hold it all in and scratched at the long-healed wolf-wound, only a small divot in his skin left to remind him of the night he met Jonas. He wanted to respect whatever choice Jonas made but couldn't help the way he felt frantic at the idea of things ending between them.

  
He pulled Jonas close to him.

  
"Mitch, what..."

  
"Just listen to me for a second, okay?" He didn't know what he was going to say until he said it. Jonas waited patiently, staring up at Mitch with a look that nearly stole the words from his mouth, softly encircled in Mitch's arms. Mitch persisted the only way he knew how: barging forward blindly. "I know I don't have much to offer you. Just a shitty castle and shittier friends and...me. Which I realize doesn't add up to much. But I wanted you to know that I..." _I love you. I love you in a way I never thought I could love anyone even before the curse. I don't deserved you, but maybe I can someday. I love every inch of you and if you'll let me I want to stay with you forever._

  
A bitter taste filled his mouth when he realized that love probably wasn't enough, especially coming from Mitch, a cursed boy with nothing else to offer. Jonas deserved more.

  
Mitch rested his forehead against Jonas'. "I think you should stay with your sister."

  
Jonas jerked away like he'd been burned. Mitch might be able to let Jonas go forever but found he couldn't quite let him go in this moment. Not that Jonas was trying to get away; he pulled back far enough to look Mitch over. His expression was hurt and angry and maybe a little afraid. All expressions uncommon on Jonas and therefore startling.

  
"I am going to stay with Sidney. Because she's coming with us." His voice was determined even though his voice shook and his eyes were uncertain. The uncertainty grew as he looked at Mitch until at last he added, "You don't have to be with me...that way...if you don't want to. But I need to stay with you."

  
Jonas walked away from him, snatching one of the saddlebags from Bud's back as he went.

  
Mitch stood there, dazed for a moment, before trotting after him. "Joey, wait." He felt utterly lost. Jonas couldn't think it was Mitch who didn't want him, could he?

  
Jonas shook his head, clamping his mouth shut. To keep from crying. Shit. It was one thing to see him cry but to know it was Mitch that hurt him?

  
"Joey," he repeated, softer. When he lay a hand on Jonas' arm, it reassured him that he wasn't immediately brushed away. "I didn't mean to make you think...you know, that I didn't want you coming or anything. Fuck." Why was it so difficult to just say it? _Jonas, I want you to stay, even if I don't think that's what's best for you_. Trying to do the right thing fucking sucked.

  
Jonas' shoulders sagged. "I know that," he muttered. He stopped. They stood at the entrance to a road. It would probably lead them into town, if they kept going. Mitch was curious to see the town where Jonas grew up even though he knew there was no way he could without attracting attention or inciting an incident. There would definitely be an incident; Jonas had mentioned more than once some kid that had bothered him--Norman or Nigel or something like that. Mitch could tell from the way that Jonas always skirted around talking about it that it had been bad. Mitch would love to get his hands on the little shit.

  
He pushed down those thoughts and asked, "Then what's the problem?" He struggled to keep the harshness out of his voice; he didn't want Jonas to think it was about him.

  
Jonas hugged the bag to his chest. "I don't want to be a burden," he said, so quietly Mitch was sure he'd misheard. "I don't want you to feel like you have to...humor me, if this was just meant to be a short-term thing."

  
This would be the perfect time to tell Jonas how he felt, or how much he wanted him, or even that if anyone here should be worried it was Mitch. What he actually ended up saying was, "No fucking way."

  
Jonas snorted, smiling up shyly at Mitch. "I'm serious. I guess I just worry."

  
"Don't."

  
"But..."

  
"I'm serious, Spots. That's one thing I promise you don't ever have to worry about." He pressed his face in close so his breath brushed Jonas' ear. "I want you." In the low rumble of his voice, spoken through a smirk, it sounded devilish. While there was no doubt he meant it that way as well, he wished he could tell Jonas it was more than just his body on Mitch's mind.

  
Jonas pulled Mitch in for a kiss. Whenever Jonas initiated anything, Mitch's heart leapt. He felt so wanted. When they were together like that, it wasn't quite so hard to imagine Jonas really wanted to be with him. Especially with the way Jonas pulled at him with a needy little whine that Mitch was all too happy to oblige.

  
The taste of Jonas lingered on Mitch's lips when they parted. He dove back in quickly to drag his tongue over Jonas' lips, which parted with a squeak equal parts surprised and pleased. The rough edges inside of Mitch felt momentarily soothed, no longer clamoring with thoughts of Jonas leaving.

  
He wished Jonas would stop pulling away. The space between them left too much room for the doubts to sneak back in.

  
"I just need to make a quick trip into town." He rolled his eyes at Mitch's expression which undoubtedly looked deeply unhappy. "Go back and wait with Sidney; you two should get to know each other. This will only take a little while. Then we can go home."

  
Mitch stared after him as Jonas made his way down the road to town and stayed staring until Jonas disappeared from view. "Home." He liked the sound of that.

* * *

 

  
Jonas left Mitch in the woods and made the long walk into town alone. He'd made the walk a thousand times, but today was the first time he really felt himself enjoying it. He felt so light.

  
The bundle of nerves in his stomach did eventually spark to life, buzzing the closer he got to town. It was one of the few times he wished for his own selfish reasons that Mitch weren't cursed. With Mitch by his side, Jonas thought he would be much braver.

  
As it was he focused on the lingering feeling of their kiss, Mitch's hands on his neck, the warmth of Mitch's breath in his ear, tickling yet somehow still able to make him come undone. Probably because the same sensation in other places on his body usually proceeded Mitch's exceptionally talented tongue.

  
Now Jonas needed to calm down for an entirely different reason.

  
The moment he stepped into town, Jonas couldn't escape the stares. Of course. People thought he was long dead, according to Sidney, so it was only appropriate that they stared at him like they were seeing a ghost.

  
He made his way swiftly to the market, past all the familiar vendors until he came to the stall selling honey. When he came into view he almost stopped. Carmen sat in the booth; in front of her, leaning on the counter so far that his jacket threatened to knock over the wares, was Neil. They were probably flirting, but even then Neil's face was stuck in a permanent sneer.

  
Jonas' stomach turned a little. He'd come this far and wouldn't be deterred now, even though the sight brought back the humiliation of the incident with the spilled honey and made his palms sweat. He took a steadying breath.

  
Carmen saw him first. She blanched when their eyes met. It was probably the most imperfect thing he'd ever seen her do, Jonas realized; every move she made was usually so perfect it seemed like a choreographed dance.

  
He'd wondered how he'd feel seeing her again. She was still as beautiful as ever. All of Jonas' feelings from before his trip into the forest were still there, only now they felt different. Like a watered down echo. It was hard to say if it had always been that way or if it only felt smaller compared to what he felt for Mitch.

  
Of course anything he felt at all was muddled under the roiling of discomfort he felt for Neil.

  
"Jonah?" Carmen called when he was in earshot. She looked him over, blinking rapidly like she still didn't quite trust what she saw.

  
"Hi, Carmen." He tried not to look at Neil, even though by now there was no doubt that Neil had seen him. Jonas would get through this. He needed to do this. He moved in quickly and set the saddlebag he carried on the counter. Carmen leaned forward, watching as he opened the bag and pulled out a tiny plant.

  
"Oh!" she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "A rose! You brought me a rose!" She took it from him, cradling the carefully wrapped roots in her hands.

  
Jonas could feel Neil simmering beside him, could practically smell the anger and hateful words about to spew forth. He spoke quickly, before Neil had the chance. "I wanted to give this to you, before I left. As a sort of goodbye."

  
Carmen glanced up from where she'd been delicately petting one of the partially opened flowers and tilted her head quizzically. "You're leaving?" She sounded interested if not exactly concerned.

  
"Yeah." Jonas was smiling as he said it. Sue had always tried, so he couldn't face her. And he was unabashedly afraid to face Dean. To get closure, to prepare to leave with little likelihood of returning, he'd decided to say goodbye to Carmen. It felt right. Like he'd managed to bring things full circle, more or less. "I hope you like it," he added. He slung the bag back over his shoulder and made his way back through the crowd, letting their confused stares bounce off him.

  
With a few more steps he would be out of town and back on the road to Sidney and Mitch and Bud and home. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice someone followed him until the hands were shoving him into an open doorway.

  
He fell to the ground with a dull thwack. Mostly unhurt but dazed, Jonas nevertheless wasn't surprised to look up to see Neil.   
"Who the hell do you think you are, farm boy? What makes you think you're good enough to talk to Carmen? MY GIRL?"

  
Neil was a lot less menacing now that Jonas had stared down an actual beast--even if that beast turned out to be not so menacing himself in the end. Jonas lifted himself to his feet.

  
This angered Neil. He pushed Jonas, who hadn't quite regained his balance from the first shove and then went toppling backwards. It turned out they were in the tavern, empty except for the barkeeper and another man off in the corner. Both of them watched in unmoving silence as Jonas slammed into one of the tables hard enough to knock the wind out of his chest. He wheezed and slumped to the floor. Neil took advantage of Jonas' vulnerable position. He pulled his leg back.

  
The aimed kick never fell. There was a loud crash, a shout, and a scream. A familiar growl. Mitch pinned Neil to the floor, which was covered in shards of glass from the shattered window. Neil shrunk away. He looked like he might puke.

  
Mitch curled back his lips. "Touch him again," he snarled, "and I'll tear your throat out so slowly you'll feel every drop of blood as it leaves your body."

  
He lifted Neil just high enough to slam him into the hard floor. The moment Mitch's hands left him Neil was up and running and screaming.

  
Jonas was up, too. Mitch turned back for him and they collided. "Sorry, Joey," Mitch murmured, already pulling Jonas towards the back door of the tavern past the man cowering behind his table in the corner. The door wouldn't open. Mitch slammed his shoulder into it twice before swearing heavily and dragging Jonas back towards the front exit.

  
"What for? If it's for Neil, I hate to say it but he had it coming."

  
Even as they popped out into the street and the horror of the situation dawned on Jonas, he heard Mitch chuckle. He didn't need Mitch's guiding hand to steer him away from the new screams as people caught sight of Mitch and scrambled over each other to get away from him. "For that," Mitch said as they broke for the woods.

  
Jonas heard distant shouting. Not scared screams but angry shouts. He pushed himself harder even though his lungs still cramped from where he'd collided with the table, making running even more difficult than usual.

  
Bud stood beneath a tree on the edge of the road. Jonas thought to question it, then realized Mitch must have brought him. "I guess you figured there'd be trouble, huh?" He tried to adopt a teasing tone. It didn't quite take.

  
Mitch was uncharacteristically quiet as he hoisted Jonas onto Bud's back and settled in behind. Bud seemed to sense their haste and leapt into a sprint. They raced to the farm.

  
When it came into view, Jonas pulled Bud into the yard and leapt down, handing the reins to Mitch before he could dismount. "Stay here," he said a little breathlessly. "I'll run in and get Sid." It didn't escape him, the way Mitch kept glancing back at the road, towards town. How quiet he was. Jonas pulled at his arm until all of Mitch's attention was focused on him. "Don't do anything heroic, okay?"

  
Mitch's smile was painful. "I'm no hero; I don't think you have to worry about that."

  
Jonas squeezed Mitch's arm so hard he was sure it must hurt but couldn't seem to relax his grip. "Mitch, I need you to promise me you won't do anything reckless, or dangerous, or selfless dangerous stupid brave. Whatever you want to call it--whatever you're thinking right now--I need you not to do it."

  
"I'm not--"

  
"I need you." Jonas willed Mitch to understand what he was saying, the same way, months ago, that he'd willed Henrietta to understand him trying to tell her Mitch was alive and cursed. Jonas didn't even care if it was taking things too far, too fast.  
Unlike his mother, Mitch seemed to get it. He slid from Bud's back, took Jonas' face in his hands, and kissed him. The kiss wasn't soft or romantic or hungry or any of the things any of the others had been. This kiss was a promise, hard, painful, unflinching, uncompromising. It was what Jonas had asked for yet still made him want to cry.

  
They pulled away at the same time and Jonas hurried off to the house.

  
There wasn't much time. A mob was coming.

  
He flung open the door and stepped inside, never considering that the person waiting for him wouldn't be Sidney or even Sue but the one person Jonas wanted more than anything to avoid:

  
Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update is the last update! Gasp!  
> Also, it is going to be longer, since it's the finale, so I'm just going to plan for it to be in two weeks instead of one. Thanks for sticking with me, you lovely bunch of people :')


	13. Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, folks. The last chapter.  
> The only warning I think this needs is that Dean is a fucking dick, so brace yourself for that.  
> Most importantly, if you don't follow @longexposurestuff (the fanart blog run by @smokeplanet) on tumblr, you're missing out on some incredible stuff. Namely a fucking mind blowing piece of art DRAWN FOR THIS FIC by @thehauntedumbrella (am I doing this tagging stuff right?? I've never had to do it before but seriously it's so good I literally cried when I saw it and have cried at least twice since, my poor beta reader thought I was dying). THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU~~

There was a moment of startled silence in which Jonas and Dean regarded each other. It only lasted a few seconds, which was more than enough time for a ball of dread to form in Jonas' stomach. In an instant he was a kid again, staring up at Dean with a mix of anxiety and regret. That hadn't changed, in all the years or time away, and probably never would.

  
The permanent furrow in Dean's brow deepened as he stalked forward. The worst part of it all was the anticipation of some unknown: though Dean's actions were predictable in their harshness, a situation in which Jonas seemed to have committed an act of rebellion was uncharted territory.

  
"Where have you been?" Dean's voice was a low but still made Jonas shrink away. Dean's grip was just hard enough to hurt as he grabbed Jonas' arm. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for stealing my horse and running off to God knows where for half a year."

  
He waited for an answer but anything Jonas might have wanted to say was gone. He hadn't planned to confront Dean. He'd gone out of his way to avoid just that. His silence only infuriated Dean further.

  
Jonas cried out in pain as Dean wrenched his arm almost out of its socket. Whatever composure Jonas still clung to shattered. A sob--half pain, half emotion--broke free of his chest.

  
Dean made an exasperated noise as he hauled Jonas outside. "Stop crying," he snapped. "You always act like the world is out to get you, Jonas, but I have news for you: you've had it easy up to now. It's time to grow up." He tossed Jonas away from him.

  
Jonas hit the ground and crumpled. The cold wetness of mud covered him, seeping into his pants and shirt. Dean bore down on him, voice steadily rising. "Your sister said you were lost in the woods. I can see now that was a lie, which is a damn shame. If you'd come back with any sign that you'd toughed up, that would have been one thing. But you're just the same as ever. Tell me where you've really been, Jonas."

  
With tears clouding his vision, Jonas shook his head. It wasn't the grand gesture he'd secretly always fantasized about. But it was something. Even lying in the mud, arm aching and face covered in tears, Jonas had managed to finally stand up to Dean. If he weren't so miserable he would have been proud.

  
Dean's face morphed with fury. "You ungrateful..."

  
He didn't get to finish. Mitch slammed into him with enough force that Jonas heard the impact as much as he saw it. They both tumbled to the ground. Jonas watched in stunned silence as Mitch slammed his fists into Dean's face and then his arms as Dean covered his face while using his legs to grasp Mitch and flip them both over. They rolled. Dean got only a couple of hits in before Mitch shoved him off.

  
"Jonas!" Sidney slid to a stop at his side and threw her arms around his shoulders, eyes searching him for signs of harm. "We heard shouting from the barn." She didn't need to ask what had happened.

  
Dean and Mitch continued to struggle. It was nothing like what happened with Neil. For one thing Dean didn't buckle under Mitch's ferocity but rose up to meet it with the calm efficiency of a man used to breaking up brawls in the town tavern, a man who served as sheriff during the winter when there was little work to be done on the farm. Then all at once Dean was up and hurrying back inside the house. Mitch started to follow.

  
_Oh, no._ "Mitch!" Jonas hauled himself to his feet. Mitch must have heard the panic in his voice because he pulled up short.  
"I'll go get the horses," Sidney said, already moving quickly back towards the barn, where Bud stood lazily flicking his tail. Mitch's hands replaced hers on Jonas' back. It was incredible how quickly his face shifted from fury to alarm, colored by the same soft undertones whenever he looked at Jonas. Jonas felt a pang of fondness. It grounded him.

  
"We have to go. Now." He pulled at Mitch and then they were running. Towards Sidney, perched on Button, holding Bud's reins outstretched even though Jonas and Mitch were still far away. Distantly Jonas heard the door to the house slam open. They were so close. Mitch ran much slower than he could have to keep pace with Jonas.

  
Within a few feet of the Bud, Jonas turned just in time to see Dean leveling the gun at Mitch's back.

* * *

 

Mitch had been in the barn attempting--and failing--to make small talk with Sidney. She was Jonas' sister, so he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to get along with her. He couldn't remember what he'd said, truth be told. In response Sidney just looked at him over her horse's back, leveling him with a gaze that was equal parts suspicious and judgmental.

  
They seemed to come to a silent agreement that so long as Jonas was happy, the two of them didn't have to be friendly.  
When they heard a noise outside like shouting, Mitch was surprised that it was Sidney who reacted first: she dropped whatever she was holding and rushed outside, Mitch tailing closely behind her.

  
Jonas had been lying on the ground with a man who could only be the infamous Dean standing over him.

 

Mitch didn't think.

  
He crossed the large yard and lunged at Dean, knocking him to the ground and laying into him all in one motion. Mitch might not have been graceful but he could fight like hell. It caught him off guard that Dean fought back. In a way Mitch counted on his curse to frighten people enough to give him an edge. And while Dean looked alarmed and disgusted, he dropped into the fight with the ease of someone used to brawling. Used to winning.

  
That just pissed Mitch off even more.

  
Almost as much as the moment Dean slipped out of his grasp and made a break for the house. Mitch made to follow, fully intent on making the man pay for everything he'd ever put Jonas through.

  
Jonas. Jonas called his name and Mitch remembered why he was there in the first place. His job was to protect Jonas. Mitch wanted to gently cup Jonas' face and wipe away the look of fear that had settled there. Before he had a chance, Jonas pulled him towards the horses.

  
They were almost there when two things happened at once: a deafening crack rang through the air around them, shattering the lull Mitch's mind had fallen into the moment he saw Dean and Jonas and issuing forth a deathly quiet as the birds and farm animals fell silent in the wake of a gun.

  
And they fell. A tumbling sort of fall that knocked Mitch and Jonas the last few feet to Sidney and the horses. In fact they landed beneath Bud's wide belly, and not for the first time Mitch appreciated the animal for his steadfast persistence towards complacency.

  
Mitch's first thought was for Jonas, who, he realized, was actually the one to fall, dragging Mitch down with him. Out of the path of the bullet. Jonas hit him at a strange angle, which must have been why they rolled the way they did. In the startled moments after the fall, his eyes raked over Jonas, searching for injury, which wasn't easy because Jonas was already bolting to his feet, dragging Mitch with him.

  
Mitch snapped out of his daze. "Joey," he said. The word was a hoarse cry of desperation. He wasn't all too sure what exactly he was so desperate to convey. There was no time to ponder it. He boosted Jonas onto the horse and clambered up behind him. Movement drew his eye. He looked back just in time to see Dean taking aim again.

  
The bullet struck around Bud's feet. Sidney and her horse were already tearing away. At last Bud decided enough was enough and followed them.

  
Mitch didn't relax until the farm fell far behind them and they were well within forest. Even then the tension remained in his muscles. He chafed the skin on Jonas' sides almost unconsciously, unable to keep his hands still. He pressed his face into Jonas' shoulder. Mitch couldn't tell if he was shaking or if it was Jonas or maybe both of them.

  
Jonas led the way through the forest. Sidney followed closely. Mitch's nose was filled with the scent of horse sweat, new growth in the forest, and the mud that covered his body and Jonas'.

  
"When we get home," he said suddenly, low so that Sidney wouldn't overhear, "I'm going to have the castle draw us a bath, in that huge fucking tub in the king's rooms. I'm going to get you nice and clean so I can make you dirty again." His stomach twisted with excitement and nerves, the way it always did when he tried something suggestive with Jonas. The tiniest part of him persisted in believing this would be the time he went too far, when Jonas would push him away for good. Yet even he'd noticed that, the more he was with Jonas, the more certain he felt.

  
Jonas made a little noise between a moan and a sigh. "That sounds nice," he murmured. He sounded breathless. He turned his head back, and Mitch lifted his face to meet it. They didn't kiss, just lightly bumped their foreheads together. "Before that," Jonas said, pausing to draw in a ragged breath, "do you think you could just...hold me for a while?"

  
There was such vulnerability in his voice that it made Mitch's heart throb. "I'd like that, too." He pressed a light kiss onto Jonas' neck, just beneath the curls of his hair.

  
It was such a soft, quiet moment, made more so in contrast to what had just happened with Dean. As some of the adrenaline ebbed away, Mitch collapsed into the dawning happiness that this was real: Jonas was here with him, and they could have many more of these moments.

  
He wrapped his arms more tightly around Jonas' stomach. Jonas' clothes were wet and sticky from the mud, the thick liquid turned warm from his body heat.

  
Jonas shivered.

  
They made it back to the castle more quickly than it had taken them to get to town. Jonas had pushed the horses. Both were breathing heavily by the time the castle came into view. Everyone was still on edge, if Sidney's frown and Jonas' continued shaking was any indication. Adrenaline still sang through Mitch's veins but had quieted to a low hum rather than a roar. There was no telling if they'd been followed.

  
"I think this place must be enchanted," Sidney was saying.

  
"No shit," said Mitch.

  
Sidney rolled her eyes at him. They passed through the gates and into the courtyard. "I mean the forest, too. I searched for that path for weeks and couldn't find a trace of it, you know. Like the castle didn't want to be found."

  
Mitch shook his head. He wanted to say that sounded ridiculous, but who was he to talk? Speaking of talking, Jonas was being abnormally quiet. "You okay, Joey?" He touched Jonas' arm. Now that Sidney was closer, Mitch could clearly see the disapproving look on her face. He found he really didn't care.

  
Jonas shook his head. Mitch's brain fumbled at that for a moment. He'd automatically expected Jonas to say, yes of course I'm fine. Mitch bristled. He quickly dismounted. Jonas was swaying softly, his head leaned forward like someone about to fall asleep.

  
"Jojo?" Sidney dismounted her horse as well. She and Mitch both gasped as Jonas slid from Bud's back, not dismounting but falling. He fell away from Mitch and it was only luck that Sidney managed to catch him, though she stumbled and fell with her brother on top of her.

  
Mitch ran to them. It was then he saw the blood.

  
"Jonas!" Sidney cried. Even Bud had turned and was snuffling at his fallen rider, clearly aware something had gone wrong. Mitch shoved him out of the way and dropped to his knees. Sidney looked up at him. There was genuine terror in her eyes.  
Jonas' eyes fluttered, his breathing rapid and shallow. The shivering Mitch had felt shook Jonas' body like an earthquake. Mitch reached for him and realized there was already blood on his hands. With mounting horror Mitch realized Jonas had been bleeding this whole time and he hadn't even noticed.

  
The bullet wound was a dark, seeping hole in Jonas' stomach. All in all it didn't look terrible, the blood flow already staunched. It mixed with the drying mud on his shirt and created swirls of reddish brown. But there was only one wound, which meant the bullet was still inside. Doing damage. Killing Jonas.

  
"Fuck," Mitch said instead of releasing the howl of despair clogging his chest. "Fuck. What do we do?" He looked at Sidney, who wiped damp hair from Jonas' forehead and stared back at Mitch with a lost expression before shaking her head.

  
Mitch reached down, scooping Jonas into his arms. Jonas pushed weakly against Mitch's chest, which he didn't understand until Jonas turned his head and coughed. Something came up that smelled like stomach acid and iron and stained his mouth scarlet. Mitch made it a point not to cry but he thought he might now. Especially when Jonas looked up at him with pained eyes and said, "Sorry," in a low rasp.

  
Mitch barely saw Javier, Scratch, and Cliff, didn't hear their questions or Sidney's voice as they all followed him to Jonas' room. He lay Jonas on the bed, and though he tried to be gentle, Jonas whimpered. When he tried to pull away, Jonas' grip was surprisingly firm on his neck. Mitch remembered Jonas asking to be held.

  
"I know," he whispered, only dimly aware that they had an audience. As though that mattered. "I'll be right back. I'm going to get you help."

  
Jonas' eyes widened. They were clear but bright with fever. He shook his head furiously. "Mitch," was all he managed to say. He tugged at Mitch's cloak. Mitch reached up and undid the clasp, letting the ripped and dirty fabric settle over Jonas. He didn't know what good it would do, but he'd certainly be faster without it.

  
He was hardly aware are Sidney's wide eyes on him, raking in the appearance of his fur and tail fully on display. Mitch ignore her andleaned in, kissing Jonas full on the mouth. He tried to say everything he hadn't yet. It was a lot to ask of one kiss. It tasted like blood. He wrenched himself away, ordered Sidney and the others to look after Jonas, and broke into a run.

* * *

  
She was reading a book when Mitch found her. The enchantress. His first thought was an incoherent jumble that boiled down to how dare she. She was responsible, in some indirect way, for what was happening to Jonas.

  
Mitch had run all the way to Peach Creek. He didn't stop running, not even pausing when the enchantress caught sight of him and stood up, dropping her book to the dusty ground below her, the pages splayed out in the dust like a wounded animal. Mitch's lungs felt like they were tearing. His chest burned, and he didn't think it was entirely from exertion.

  
People saw him and screamed. They seemed to be mostly children, so at least a mob was one extra thing Mitch probably didn't have to worry about. The enchantress didn't run. There was a look on her face, a mix of fear, disgust, and surprise. Mitch couldn't believe she'd thought he wouldn't come for her someday, though it was clear from her expression that the thought never occurred to her.

  
She struggled and writhed when Mitch grabbed her wrist.

  
He ignored her protests. "Tell me where your horses are," he snapped.

  
His demand surprised her. "Horses?" Her eyes focused in on the blood that covered him.

  
"My...friend is hurt. You are going to fucking save him. Jonas is not going to die because of me, or because of you and your fucking curse."

  
"Jonas?" There was a note of familiarity in her voice.

  
Mitch snarled. Every second they wasted was one more second Jonas had to wait. A second he might not have to spare. A dark, twisting though clawed through Mitch: that the enchantress would refuse him, or that she couldn't help, or, worst of all, that they'd be too late anyway. The image of Jonas lifeless ripped an inhuman sound from Mitch.

  
The enchantress pulled against his grip. He pulled back harder. "This is not a fucking negotiation. You are coming one way or another." His desperation poured out of him. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll track down my stepdad and beg his forgiveness, and you won't even have to undo my curse in return if that's what it takes. Make it worse, if that's what you want. Turn me into a frog. I don't give a shit so long as Jonas is okay."

  
The girl shot him a look that was pure hate. "I was just going to say that I have a way that's faster than horses. Unless you'd like to keep wasting Jonas' time."

* * *

 

Jonas had been in blinding pain when Dean shot him. Not instantly, like it took a second for the surprise to wear off. He'd used that time to get on the horse, and then it hit him like a kick from their surliest cow. But there was no choice but to push forward. And then the pain had ebbed, and for a second Jonas thought it was good, that maybe the wound wasn't as bad as he'd first thought.

  
There was no denying the blood.

  
The rivers of scarlet had dredged up a memory of a boy in town who'd been in a cart accident when Jonas was a child. Lewis was the kid's name. How the he had gotten up afterwards, said he was fine, went about his day only to drop dead later that afternoon. Jonas remembered overhearing Sue wonder about it, how the kid hadn't realized he was in pain. And Dean saying that the worst injuries were like that. The body hurt so badly it shut off the pain as the only way to cope with it. Lack of pain was never a good thing.

  
Jonas remembered that as his pain went away. He'd felt cold, shaky, and nauseated. The only thing that kept him grounded was Mitch's arms around him, Mitch's soft voice in his ear. The certainty that if he was going to die, he absolutely couldn't do it while Mitch was holding him. Jonas couldn't be one more thing that hurt him.

  
He lay on the bed now where Mitch had left him. Sidney, Scratch, and Javier attended to him, treating him like he was unconscious. Part of him wished he was. Mostly he closed his eyes to keep from vomiting again. He remembered with an indistinct sense of embarrassment that he'd thrown up on Mitch. What a romantic final memory.

  
"Where did he go?" Sidney was asking. Her voice was low, like she was worried about waking Jonas. Even Scratch was subdued, though the metallic tapping of her feet could be heard rushing from place to place, gathering water and cloths despite the fact that the castle was more than capable of giving them what they needed.

  
It was Javier's voice that answered. "He must have gone to get Madison. That's the girl who cursed him. Who cursed us all."

  
Sidney's tone was icy. "And you all really trust someone like that to help my brother?"

  
"Do you know any other way to fix this?"

  
No one said anything for a long moment. "If she cursed you all," Sidney said, "what would make her want to help us?"

  
Javier sighed. "There's always a way to break a curse. For the three of us, it was just time. Five years and we turn back into humans. But with Mitch...she asked him for something he couldn't give."

  
"And what was that?"

  
"To apologize to his stepfather."

  
Sidney continued to press Javier for answers, but Jonas had stopped listening. It was horrible enough to imagine that Mitch's curse couldn't be undone. But this? A fiery pit of anger bloomed in Jonas' stomach. He vomited again. The pain had returned full-force, a dull agony that made Jonas' head swim.

  
"Jonas!" Sydney cried as he pulled Mitch's cloak to his nose and breathed it in an attempt to calm his stuttering heart. _That foolish, sweet, wonderful boy_ , he thought. The cloak smelled like Mitch. Beneath the pain and sadness, it stirred a sense of warmth in Jonas.

* * *

 

Mitch would never be able to explain what the enchantress did to get them back to the castle so quickly. She gave a half-assed explanation, something about a different, more powerful enchantress, an old curse, and blood magic. All he knew was that one second they were standing in the living room of her house and the next they were in the abandoned town at the base of the castle.

"Come along," she'd said primly, and if he didn't need her help he might have thrown her off the nearest roof right then.

Jonas' room smelled like blood. He was sitting up clutching his stomach, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His eyes were already on the door when they walked in. The second he saw Mitch his eyes glowed with a happiness so incongruent with the scene of blood around him that Mitch felt a little ill himself. Jonas' usually warm brown skin had taken on a sallow look, like all the blood beneath it had gone. Mitch panicked.

  
He took Jonas' hands into his and kissed them. Behind him, the enchantress made a disapproving sound. Mitch growled and bared his teeth at her. "Fix him."

  
She took a step forward, but it was Jonas who shook his head. He pulled Mitch closer. "I know what you're trying to do, but I can't let you. I'm not going to let you apologize to that man for anything."

  
Mitch was briefly confused. He glanced at Javier, whose clock face appeared oddly sympathetic. Mitch squeezed Jonas' hand. "I don't care about that," he whispered, only for Jonas to hear. "If it saves you, I don't care." Jonas was shaking his head again, so Mitch place one hand on his forehead to stop him. Jonas was abnormally warm and slick with sweat. Mitch brushed back the wet curls, planting a kiss right between Jonas' eyes.

  
He moved aside just enough to let the enchantress through. Behind her, he was gratified to see that Sidney was glaring daggers at the other girl's back, and that even Scratch's face was stony beneath her maniacal grin as she held a protective stance from her perch on Jonas' shoulder.

  
The enchantress pressed her hands to the wound. Jonas gasped, eyes going wide before rolling back in his head. It took all of Mitch's self-restraint not to fly off the handle, and even then it was probably only Jonas' consistent grip on his that prevented him from doing just that.

  
For a long time it seemed like nothing happened. Everyone in the room just stood still and quiet. Mitch didn't know Scratch was capable of going so long without screaming about something. Hell, he didn't know HE could go so long without doing anything.

  
"There," the enchantress said. Her voice was a harsh little sound against the backdrop of total silence. There was a soft clang of clock bells as Javier jumped in surprise. When the enchantress drew back her hand, she held in the bloodied tips of her fingers a small ball of metal. The hole in Jonas' belly closed up behind it, leaving a smooth patch of skin dotted only with freckles. No blood, no wound, no scar.

  
Mitch felt the change in Jonas quickly. Everything relaxed, his lead lolled to the side, and his grip on Mitch loosened. It was terrifying. It was Scratch who place a hand over Jonas' mouth. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief when the candle flame flickered, disturbed by Jonas' own breathing. Sidney flung herself across the room and onto her brother, muttering senseless words of comfort into the fabric that covered him. Mitch's cloak.

  
Mitch glanced at the enchantress from the corner of his eye. "Thank you," he breathed, truly meaning it despite the ache of anger he still felt in his chest to even look at her.

  
Her eyes were flinty. "Don't forget your end of the bargain."

  
Her words were a shock of ice in Mitch's veins. He reminded himself that it didn't matter. That Jonas was safe. Still, he couldn't help it if the tiny part of him shriveled beneath her words--the part that still dreamed of a human life, one in which he could give Jonas the life he'd always deserved, away from dark castles and curses. He only had to remind himself that Jonas had chosen him, not as he could be but as he was.

  
Mitch had made his choice, too. He would live with whatever repercussions came with it.

  
He nodded, but the enchantress' eyes were no longer on him. They were on Jonas.

* * *

 

From the look on Mitch's face it was clear that he'd accepted the punishment Madison had doled out for him. That didn't mean Jonas would.

  
His eyes met hers and he saw a flicker of something there. Doubt. Even so she turned quickly to leave.

  
"Wait," he called, his voice stronger than he expected. He could tell he was healed. He'd felt the magic working to repair the damage Dean had caused, though he could still feel the traces it left behind.

  
In short, he still felt like shit.

  
Madison looked at him. "There's nothing to say," she told him.

  
He reached around Mitch to the bedside table and grabbed the book. The little book of fairytales, scarred and marked. He tossed it to her. It landed with a sad thump at her feet. For a long moment Jonas thought she was going to turn and leave anyway. His heart thudded and his stomach twisted. He seriously doubted there was anything left for him to throw up, but that didn't mean his stomach wouldn't give it its best try.

  
Finally, Madison stooped and lifted the book, flipping through it carefully. Somehow it was the softness of her touch as she gingerly scanned the pages that gave Jonas hope.

  
"Every single one of those," he said as her brow furrowed, "is a story about someone who got cursed. And in every single one, they broke their curse by redeeming themselves. By proving that they deserved to be set free."

  
"But he hasn't redeemed himself. He refused." Madison glared at Mitch, who wasn't looking at her at all; he was staring up at Jonas with wonder.

  
Jonas shook his head. He fought to keep his expression soft, imploring, despite the fact that his blood sang with anger that she still couldn't see what he did. "Mitch was willing to sacrifice his one chance to break his curse to save someone else. To save me. How is that not redeeming? How is that not powerful enough to break a curse?"

  
Madison didn't say anything. She held the book so tightly in her hands that her knuckles turned white.

  
He couldn't tell if he was reaching her or not. "I...I know you thought you were doing the right thing. But I think it's more complicated than that. How does a curse heal anyone?"

  
"What do you suggest, then?" she hissed, not cruelly but with some other emotion.

  
Jonas looked down at his hand, where it was still clasped tightly in Mitch's. Everyone was waiting to hear his big idea. He looked at Mitch. Took in his face, with his amber eyes that were soft in the way they only were when he was looking at Jonas. Jonas knew he looked the same way when he looked at Mitch.

  
The book of fairytales was filled with more than punishment and redemption. Every one he'd read, every story he'd poured over for weeks, was filled with something even more important. Something he'd been feeling for months. He was still looking at Mitch when he said, "Isn't it obvious?"

  
For a few moments it felt like it was only Jonas and Mitch in the room. Mitch's expression was fragile, questioning, hopeful. A thump broke through their bubble. "Whatever," Madison said. Though her voice was sharp, Jonas thought he could hear hurt beneath it. She strode from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  
It was like a slap. Jonas looked back at Mitch with tears in his eyes. He forced them down.

  
Mitch was still smiling. "Joey," he said, and the smile turned into a smirk. "No one's ever stood up for me like that before. You must really like me, huh?"

  
Jonas laughed.

  
Mitch's smile transformed into a grimace. A second later, he collapsed.

* * *

 

Mitch would not scream. No matter how badly it hurt, no matter how much it felt like his skin was peeling off or his bones were splitting, he refused to make a sound. He lifted his head, the most defiant thing he could do while his body turned itself inside-out, and looked at Jonas, who stared at him in horror and then confusion but never let go of his hand.  
With one final snap, a rending feeling in his spine, unconsciousness overtook him.

  
When he came to, something soft and warm was pressed into his side. Every inch of him ached. It reminded him of his days living with his mom and stepfather, when his body felt like a giant walking bruise. He had to forcefully pry his eyes open. When he did, the first thing he saw was Scratch.

  
She was leaning in way too close to him, grinning like a moron and bouncing excitedly. Her green hair was swept back off her face and she was wearing a riding suit fit for a king. She slapped his cheeks, lightly enough that he wouldn't have to kill her later.

  
"Scratch. Off." He pushed her away, his hand colliding with the soft flesh of her shoulder.

  
Wait.

  
Javier grinned down at him. Human Javier. Looking a little older than the last time Mitch had seen him like this, and with a lot more makeup than Mitch remembered, but definitely human. Cliff...Mitch didn't really care what the fuck Cliff was doing, but he was doing it while human.

  
"A little slow on the uptake there, huh?" Sidney perched on the bed above him, smirking, one eyebrow raised.

  
A gasp drew his attention to Jonas. He was still covered in blood, mud, and drying sweat, draped across Mitch's chest like he'd fallen there and not moved since. Probably he hadn't. Jonas, with the same look on his face he'd given him before Mitch passed out. The one that made him feel like he would either die of happiness or live forever. Possibly both simultaneously. The look that made him know it would be okay to stay a beast forever so long as Jonas could keep looking at him like that.

  
Except that his hands when he reached for Jonas to pull him in and smother him with kisses weren't the hands of a beast at all.

  
"Holy. Shit."

  
"I know," said Scratch and Javier simultaneously. Scratch looked ready to explode, while Javier laughed a deep belly laugh, unable to contain himself.

  
"Holy fucking shit," Mitch said again.

  
Jonas laughed, too. There were tracks on his face where he'd been crying. "I know."

  
Without warning Mitch scooped him up and they were both kissing and laughing around the kisses.

  
"Aw," said Scratch.

  
"Ew," said Sidney.

  
"Alright everybody," said Javier, "let's give these two a minute to...recover."

  
Mitch didn't think he'd ever appreciated Javier as much as he did in that moment. Scratch was the last one to leave. She jumped on Jonas, who probably would have collapsed under her weight if Mitch hadn't been holding onto him. "I knew you were a good one," she said as she gave him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. She bounded off, closing the door behind her with a wink.

  
Alone, Jonas bumped his head against Mitch's shoulder.

  
"So," Mitch said, slowly, "are you doing okay? The last I saw you were recently back from the dead."

  
Jonas snorted. "A little sore, but other than that I'm great. What about you?"

  
Mitch looked down at Jonas in his arms--his very human arms--and said, "I'm beyond great." His grin turned devious. "Especially now that I know just how much you like me, Spots."

  
"It took me yelling at an enchantress for you to figure that out?" He looked at Mitch with disbelief though his cheeks were flushed. "All the...things we've done didn't give you a clue?"

  
He reined confusion. "'Things'? What 'things'?"

  
"Shut up."

  
"I'm serious, Joey, I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe a demonstration?" He waggled his eyebrows.

  
To his surprise, Jonas lifted himself up, straddling Mitch's lap. He wasn't expecting that. "How about," Jonas said, avoiding direct eye contact and chewing on his lip in a way that made Mitch want to chew on it, too, "we go take that bath you've been promising?" He lifted his eyes. He couldn't have been more beautiful if he tried.

  
"The day I say no to that you can go ahead and bury me, Spots."

  
It wasn't until they stood up that Mitch really noticed he was shirtless. He'd been shirtless for most of his time as a beast; wearing one didn't really make sense with all that fur. Now he felt surprisingly naked. "This...is going to take some getting used to," he admitted as they made their way into the king's bedroom. Not that he missed being a beast. He didn't think. There was just a strange feeling of being exposed.

  
The castle had the tub steaming and ready. A light scent of roses filled the air, and Mitch noticed petals floating along the surface of the water. Jonas went over to it and skimmed the tips of his fingers along the surface. He turned around and leaned back against the edge, beckoning Mitch with his eyes. How a person could be so shy and so seductive at once was beyond Mitch.

  
With Jonas' hands on him he didn't feel exposed. In fact he couldn't wait to expose himself more. Their hands hurried together until Mitch wasn't sure who undressed what. Stripped down, naked, and raw, they plunged into the hot water. Mitch shuddered as it eased some of the aches in his muscles. There was enough room in the massive tub that only their legs brushed. Mitch wasn't usually one for soaking in a bath but at the moment he couldn't think of a single place he'd rather be than there with Jonas.

  
He closed his eyes. When he opened them he found Jonas watching him.A downside of not being covered in fur was that when he blushed, it was now on full display.

  
While he'd always hated his curse, he had to admit it had given him a level of protection. If Jonas had rejected him before, Mitch would have blamed it mostly upon the curse. Now, though, there was nothing but himself, laid bare. So his tone was only half-joking as he said, "What? Are you realizing you're gonna miss the fur? Think I looked better all hairy? I could always grow a beard, you know."

  
Jonas' mouth quirked up at the corners. He moved closer, until Mitch could feel the soft swells of Jonas' hips and thighs press against him. If it didn't look like Jonas was about to say something, Mitch would have pulled him into his lap and gnawed soft bruises into his skin, now that his canines were back to normal--for him--size and out of the way.

  
He did nip lightly at the top of Jonas's shoulder, over a particularly enticing grouping of freckles. Call it a preview.

  
Rather than look annoyed Jonas leaned into the touch. His eyes unfocused, his head tilted away to provide better access to his neck. Mitch worked his way up. When he reached the hollow of his throat, Jonas turned his head, pressing their mouths together as he wrapped his arms around Mitch's shoulders.

  
Then it was Jonas kissing down Mitch's neck.

  
It was unbearable.

  
"Joey," he groaned.

  
Jonas pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes glittered. "Cursed, beastly, otherwise. I don't care. I want to be with you because you're you." He pressed his hand to Mitch's cheek; Mitch closed his eyes and leaned into the contact.  
"You sure, Spots?" If there was ever a moment to ask it was now. "Because I'd understand, after everything, if..."

  
"Mitch." Jonas' voice was uncharacteristically forceful. Mitch's eyes flew open in surprise and he found Jonas looking at him with that look of determination he got sometimes, that expression that cracked open his calm exterior and showed off the fierceness inside. He took Mitch's face in both his hands, took a deep breath, and said, "I will say it as many times as you need to hear it: I want to be with you. I want you. I..." He took another deep breath. His earlier words whispered through Mitch's head-- _isn't it obvious?_ \--while Jonas worked up the courage to continue. "I love you." Firm, certain, filled with so much adoration Mitch couldn't believe he ever doubted anything else.

  
Mitch couldn't stand it another second. He lifted Jonas into his lap and kissed him, fierce and longing and desperate, not from the threat of loss but the burning ache to be close to someone he loved who loved him back.

  
Jonas arched into the kiss. His hands fluttered around, torn between begging Mitch to do more and getting lost in the pleasure of it. Watching Jonas come undone made Mitch feel sweetly vicious.

  
He pulled back. Jonas trailed after him but Mitch kept his distance, fighting down a smirk and trying to look serious. "Wait, Joey. I seem to recall you saying something about wanting to cuddle first?"

  
Jonas made a sound of frustration. "Mitch."

  
Mitch held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just doing what you want."

  
Jonas visibly shivered. Droplets of water rolled down his shoulders in lazy little rivers. "I want you," he said, "to fuck me." He looked deeply embarrassed almost immediately.

  
Mitch would have laughed if there were anything funny about the situation. Even his teasing had its limits. "Here?" he asked breathlessly.

  
"Bed," said Jonas after a second of thought.

  
They scrambled out of the tub, made more difficult by the fact that neither one seemed willing to let go of the other. They stumbled their way back into the bedroom. Mitch tried to lift Jonas smoothly onto the bed. He tripped at the last moment, launching them both forward. They landed in a heap on top of one another with a wet smack. Jonas was shocked; Mitch was embarrassed. They both laughed. Until the movement of their laughter made them rub together, both already hard, and Jonas' laughs trailed off into a gasp. Mitch repeated the movement just to hear that sound again and the awkward slip-up was entirely forgotten.

  
A little bottle of oil rested beside the bed. Mitch snatched at it, worked it onto his fingers, and started the slow work of easing Jonas open. Neither of them minded. There were plenty of other things to keep them occupied while his body adjusted to one finger, two, three. The sounds Jonas made drove Mitch so crazy he was half-afraid he'd come just from listening to them.

  
They'd done this part before. It didn't take long for Jonas to relax. He was quickly begging for more. Mitch buried himself inside Jonas, taking care to go slowly, gently, to mind every gasp and movement Jonas made and make sure every one was done in pleasure. When their bodies were pressed entirely together he paused. Together they just breathed.

  
Jonas nodded for him to continue. Mitch moved. Jonas grasped at him, and when Mitch felt the bite of fingernails against his back he could have howled with pleasure. He moved faster. Jonas called out his name, "Mitch, oh god, Mitch. _Mitch_ ," again and again.

  
He reached between their bodies and stroked Jonas in time with his own thrusts. He wanted them to come together. Still, there wasn't even a shred of disappointment when he felt Jonas unravel beneath him with a keening cry that tipped Mitch over the edge. It was all he could do to keep moving, not to give in to the collapsing waves of joy he felt. "Jonas," he murmured.

  
It was Jonas who pulled him down for a kiss. Mitch felt there wasn't any space between them in that moment. There was an immensely satisfying sound when he pulled out. If Jonas had seemed a little inclined to let him go, Mitch would have buried his face in Jonas' ass and lapped at him like an entirely different sort of beast.

  
He rolled carefully to the side, settling Jonas into his arms. He never intended to let go. He did pull back just long enough to kiss Jonas softly on the forehead and say, "I love you, too."

* * *

 

Jonas stood in the almost-familiar streets of the city where Mitch had grown up. During the winter the town had been intriguing but quiet, like a house usually full of people left empty for a time. The summer was now in full swing and had brought the city back to life. The smell of market filled the air, overshadowed only by the briny smell of the sea. Jonas had only been here once before, yet somehow it felt like coming home.

  
Mitch guided him through the streets with ease. Not in a way that made it seem like he'd never left, exactly. More like someone who was in their element. The only sign he was nervous was the way his hand squeezed tightly around Jonas'. Jonas squeezed back, stroking his thumb over the back of Mitch's hand in a reassuring gesture. He saw the corners of Mitch's mouth lift.

  
Javier, Scratch, and Cliff were somewhere in the city, reuniting with their families. Jonas was sure it couldn't be easy to explain their disappearances and hoped it went smoothly. Even for Cliff.

  
Sidney had split off early on. She was on the way to the market to buy a horse of her own, having already sent Button back to Dean. Jonas and Sidney agreed it was the most they would do, as a way to put Sellwood behind them and start fresh. And, hopefully, to placate Dean. After all, he might overlook Sidney and Jonas and even Bud, but not the loss of his best workhorse. Better not to risk it.

  
Luckily for Sidney--for all of them--the castle had had one final parting gift: bags of money, mostly in small, unsuspicious coin with a handful of gold pieces hidden at the bottom of each. Enough that Jonas didn't think any of them would have to worry about money for the rest of their lives. He'd patted the carved doors on his way out, feeling irrationally sad to leave the castle behind. A part of him knew it would be there, waiting, for anyone who needed it again.

  
Though he hoped no one ever would.

  
Mitch and Jonas arrived in front of a familiar little house. Mitch stood there, breathing hard, tugging at the remains of his tattered cloak. It still suited him somehow, though now he wore a shirt beneath it. He looked frantically to Jonas, who nodded. Together they walked to the door, and together they knocked.

  
Henrietta's face when she saw her son was enough to make even Mitch cry.

  
They sat her down, told her the whole story. She seemed unable to fully wrap her head around the idea, mostly the strange fact that it was Jonas, the boy who'd shown up on her doorstep all those months ago, returning again with her long-lost son in tow. She also didn't seem to care.

  
When she and Mitch smiled, they really did look alike.

  
Later that evening, with a promise to return to Henrietta's first thing in the morning, Mitch led Jonas back down to the beach. They waded in. The water was cool. It tugged and pushed on him gently, like soft hands of a lover.

  
When Mitch kissed him in front of the blazing sunset, it was filled with none of the fervid urgency of someone lost in the depths of a curse. It was like a promise of all the things to come, starting with the pretty image they both had of a house overlooking the sea. There were still things they needed to do, things they had to work on. For the first time in his life Jonas was excited to do that, knowing he'd be doing it all with Mitch.

  
Not to mention the fact that they could kiss anytime they wanted. Again and again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. Thank you all so much for reading. You have no idea how good this experience has been for me. I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I have writing <3  
> Also, if you would like to imagine that Dean went into the woods looking for the boys and got eaten by wolves, I would not be opposed ;)


End file.
